


Two Worlds Apart

by neeeeeeeeep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Blood and Gore, Bondage, Destiny, Dom/sub, Drunk Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Gen, Intoxication, Light BDSM, Morning Sickness, Multi, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Other, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rope Bondage, Smut, Spanking, Squirting, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Torture, Violence, dom!Dean, graphic depiction of violence, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 61,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22821805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neeeeeeeeep/pseuds/neeeeeeeeep
Summary: Hunting on your own has always been the way you've lived your life. It was safer, it was more efficient, and you preferred to make things easier for yourself. But when you can't stop running into Dean Winchester after a one-night stand, you're beginning to think that the universe is trying to tell you something.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You, Reader/Dean Winchester
Comments: 101
Kudos: 139





	1. When I Tell You

**Author's Note:**

> hey, guys! me again. back again with a fic i impulsively started writing and have no idea where it'll go or what i'm doing with it, but posting it anyway!
> 
> love me.
> 
> ps. can't go wrong with first chapter smut, right? ;)

You spotted him across the bar the minute you sat down. Emerald green eyes, illuminated by the few lights in the dark bar, shimmering right at you and immediately you were intrigued. One drink after another, you watched each other, enticing each other with subtle motions, getting to know one another without a single word being uttered. Finally, after your fifth whiskey, you decided to move across the bar and sit next to him. You could see the smirk on his lips, impressed that you’d made the first move.

“I was wondering when you were going to say hello,” he said, a cocky tone to his voice which admittedly turned you on. “I’m impressed. Not many chicks make the first move.”

“Well, I’m not just any chick,” you replied, ushering the bartender over with a wiggle of your finger. You ordered a round for yourself and your new company, knowing exactly what he’d been drinking all night since you’d been watching every shot the bartender had poured for him.

As you were handed your drinks, you picked up yours and swivelled your bar stool round to face your company, taking in his attractiveness that you could admire much better up close. He was truly stunning. “To women making the first move,” you toasted as you held up your shot towards him.

He did the same and nodded, adding, “To _beautiful_ women making the first move on equally as handsome men.”

You smirked, and added, “To equally as handsome men returning the confidence in bed later on.”

Letting out an amused breath through his nose with a ‘hah’, he replied, “To equally as handsome men taking beautiful, confident women right after this shot.”

And with that, the two of you simultaneously downed your shot before standing up and making your way to the door without another word said. You knew what you had come to this bar for in the first place, and you realised quickly that your attractive company had the same intentions.

He lead you to a black Chevy Impala parked in a spot near the door, and at first you were a little uncertain whether he was sober enough to drive, but he noticed the wary look on your face as he walked to the passenger side door and opened it up for you. “It’s two minutes down the road. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not going to kill you.”

With a smirk, you slid into the car, almost immediately admiring the interior of it, but only until your company slipped in beside you in the driver’s seat. He started up the car with a low growl and you, again, couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of the vehicle. “Nice car,” you complimented, looking over at your company with a smirk. “I like a man with a bit of power in his wheels.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I have to say, I like a woman that can appreciate a beautiful car, too. Looks like we’re a perfect match.”

He pulled the car out of its parking space and onto the main road. He wasn’t wrong when he said he was only staying two minutes down the road, because before you could get comfortable in the car, you were already parked at a motel and he was by your door, opening it for you again. He led you to a motel room – you weren’t overly impressed with where he was staying, but your inhibitions went out the window after your fifth shot, so you weren’t going to complain either.

He lead you in and shut the door behind, shrugging off his jacket to dump it on top of a duffel bag that sat in the corner of the room. You smirked, kicking off your heels to get a little more comfortable yourself.

“So…” you started, walking over to your company who had now turned to look at you, lust filling his eyes, causing his pupils to dilate as you looked up at him, “where were we?”

“I think you said something about showing you my confidence in bed,” he replied, smirking as he watched you tug on your bottom lip with your teeth. His tongue flicked out to trace the lines across his own bottom lip in response, and without warning he dipped his head down and captured your lips with his. You let out a moan in response, your lips dancing with him, tongues dipping in and out of each other’s mouths as he guided you to the double bed across the room.

He twirled you around, so the back of your calves hit the edge of the bed and pushed you down onto it, so you fell flat on your back, your company climbing on top of you soon after. You pulled him in for another kiss, desperate and needing, your breaths becoming rugged and quick as you reached down to start unfastening his jeans. You were unbelievably turned on by him, feeling your panties becoming soaked from arousal with every touch and flick of his tongue. You were becoming impatient at this point, this becoming evident in the way you shoved his jeans down to his ankles and pulled his shirt over your head, chucking it aside quickly after.

He got the message, breaking the kiss to focus on undressing you now. His hands ran along your shoulders before dipping down to your back, feeling for a zipper on the back of your dress. He, almost masterfully, unzipped it and started pulling it off like he’d done it a million times before, only needing you to lift you hips at the right moment so he could pull the body-con dress over your hips. You smirked to yourself, knowing he’d now been exposed to your gorgeous, handpicked lingerie with the sole purpose of it being seen tonight. Black lace, barely hiding anything but enhancing your breasts and your ass for the viewer’s pleasure. He let out a groan of appreciation before connecting his lips to yours again, but only a moment before he started walking his kisses down your neck.

Your hand ran through the back of his hair, gripping on slightly as he hit the sensitive spots on your neck, nipping and sucking on them as your body tells him he was meeting them. You were sure he’d left a hickey by the time he reached your collarbone, but at that point in time you didn’t care. He could do whatever he wanted with you at this point – you were fully submitted to his control.

He worked his way down your body, leaving a trail of tiny hickeys down your body, not enough to last for long but enough for you to wake up with them and remember all that had happened the previous night. Finally, he reached your panties, purposely breathing a hot breath against your core which made you squirm and let a small moan escape your lips. He smirked, his fingers hooking underneath the rim of your underwear, slowly starting to roll them down your hips, over your thighs, until he pulled them off and discarded them in a swift motion. You instinctively let your legs fall part, and you watch him eye you with hunger in his gaze. He licked his lips again, before his head dipped forward and his mouth connected with your soaked pussy.

His tongue pressed against your opening, tasting everything he had caused, before he pulled his tongue up the whole length of your parted lips, before finally reaching your clit. You let out a long, winy moan, your chest heaving as you try to remain calm under his teasing, but you knew what he was doing – purposely tormenting you with slow, calculated moves before he fucked you senseless. The act of someone who _truly_ knew how to get a woman off, and that thought alone turned you on impossibly more.

He moaned into your clit as his tongue flicked, rolled and toyed with the sensitive nub, the vibrations adding to the sensations already pulling moans from your body. You were rocking your hips against everyone of his motions, trying to get more from him, the pleasure he was causing you already bringing you closer to your climax. You barely noticed him moving his fingers to your entrance until you felt them slip inside of you with ease; one to start off with, two when he knew you could take more. He rocked them in and out of you, curling them up to hit your sweet spot as if he knew your body like a map. You cried out in pleasure, your hips continuously grinding against his motions until you knew you couldn’t last much longer.

“I’m gonna cum,” you wined, your fingers running through his hair and grasping around it, “p-please, fuck. I wanna cum so bad.”

You could feel the smirk against you as he increased the speed of both his tongue and his fingers. You were moaning constantly, the room filling with your noises and the sounds of his busy fingers, and you were so close to spilling over the edge when—

He stopped.

Everything stopped.

The sudden lack of stimulation as he pulled his fingers from you and removed his lips makes you gasp and sit up in panic. “W-what? What happened?” you asked, desperately looking up at him with flushed cheeks.

He stood above you, and you _immediately_ knew what was happening. You watched intently as he raised his fingers, coated in your wetness, to his lips where he licks them clean, slowly and intentionally. He looked back at you with a huge, cocky smirk on his lips. “I didn’t say you could cum now, did I?”

His words hit you like a truck. You knew exactly what his game was, and the dominance in his tone made you quiver. You were, at heart, a submissive, but you were also a _total_ brat that hated not getting your own way, which forced your brows to furrow as you glared at him. “You’re a _cruel_ son of a bitch,” you hissed at him, although you knew this probably wasn’t going to help.

He leaned down towards you, narrowing the gap between you, so you could feel his breath on your top lip as he said, “and you’re going to _love_ it when I’m done with you.”

Your whole body quivered. _God, he’s fucking hot_ , you thought, but you knew you couldn’t show him your appreciation after what he had just deprived you of.

“Now,” he started, “be a good girl and get down on those knees. I’m sure a pretty mouth like yours will be put to better use on my cock than talking back to me, right?”

You glared at him, but before you could answer he pulled you down onto the floor with a thud, so you landed on your knees right in front of his large, boxer-clad erection. Your eyes immediately focused on that, your tongue hungrily trailing over your lips as you reached up to hook your fingers around the rim of his boxers, pulling them down slowly, until his hard cock finally sprung free, grazing your cheek as it settled in place in front of your eyes.

You let out a groan of appreciation, you pussy pulsing at the sight of him before you. You couldn’t help yourself, and you leaned forward, pressing your tongue to the base of his cock, before dragging it from base to tip, a similar motion to what he had done to you when he had started eating you out. You moaned at the taste of his pre-cum, dripping down the head of his cock, enjoying the saltiness as you rolled your tongue around the tip. He let out a small groan, his hands finding your hair, threading his fingers through it to take a grasp on it, guiding you to put your lips around him and finally take him into your mouth.

You did just that; slowly inching him further and further down, your hands cupping his balls as you do so which elicited another moan from above you. The grasp around your hair tightened as you started a rhythm with your movements, pulling your lips from base to tip in slow motions, purposely taking your time to get back at him for teasing you, sucking your cheeks inwards to create more pressure around his cock. You groaned around him, mimicking what he had done to you before. You massaged his balls as you did this, building up a more consistent speed, bobbing your head up and down, taking him further into your mouth with each thrust of your head before you could feel him hitting the back of your throat with his tip. You moaned at his reactions, obviously enjoying what your mouth was doing to him, and you decided you wanted to impress him even more. As you took him into your mouth once again, you pushed him as far down your throat as you could, ignoring your gag reflex and pushing through the discomfort it brought. You held him there for a few moments, before coming up for air and leaving a string of saliva behind, hanging between your bottom lip and his cock. You looked up at him in this state and he let out another groan, biting his lip hungrily.

“What a good little cock slut you are,” he hummed, rubbing his thumb against your temple as you could feel your watery eyes smudging your mascara. “I think you deserve a reward for being such a good girl, huh?”

You nodded eagerly, before you were pulled from the floor and thrown on the bed, facing down so your ass was facing your company, who was now climbing on the bed behind you. You felt him pulling you up by your hips, so your ass was between his hands and his cock pressed against the entrance of your glistening cunt.

“Mm… what a view,” he said with admiration in his voice, his hand rubbing your plump ass cheek gently, goose bumps forming under his touch. "Is this what you want? Hm? You want my cock inside you, sweetheart?”

You looked over your shoulder as much as you could, but since your face was practically pressed against the bed you had very limited movement. Regardless, you could still manage to see enough of your gorgeous conquest looking down at you with lustful eyes, with full control over you; your body at his service. You nodded, biting your lip. “Yes. Yes, I want that so bad. Please,” you begged, unashamedly desperate to feel him filling you up.

He smirked again. “Hm… I think you deserve it.”

And with that, he entered you with a swift motion, his cock filling you up and taking your breath away with every inch. You tried to control yourself but you couldn't help but let your moans trail out, decorated with mumbled profanity as he started to thrust himself back and forth, hitting you at perfect depth to catch your g-spot and make you cry out in pleasure. Your orgasm from before, the one he fully denied, was already starting to build up again, and you couldn't help but dip a hand between your legs and rub your clit in a frantic circular motion.

Although, the action didn’t go unmissed, and you quickly feel your hand smacked away seconds after. You cried out in frustration. “Please, I just want to cum. Lemme cum all over your perfect dick. _Please_!”

He let out an almost maniacal chuckle as he continued to build up speed with his thrusts. “I told you before, you don’t get to cum unless _I tell you_ you’re allowed. But because you’re a greedy little slut for trying to do that without permission, you need to receive some _punishment_.” And with that, he quickly brought down a swift hand against the spot on your ass where he’d previously been caressing it.

You cried out, although the impact sent shivers through your whole body, the pain complimenting the pleasure of his cock inside you perfectly, and quickly your noises turned back to moans. “Hm… guess you liked that, huh? Dirty bitch.”

You could hear the smirk in his tone, but you couldn’t even fathom an answer as he slammed his cock into you with great force, the sound of your skin colliding together echoing through the room. He continued to take his hand to your backside every few thrusts or so, the sharp pain only enhancing the experience as you loved how rough he was with you. You could tell he was getting closer with every thrust, his own grunts and groans of pleasure growing more frequent.

“Mm… you wanna cum, my little whore?” he spoke his words through rugged breaths. “You’re gonna cum for me so hard, harder than you’ve ever done before, you hear me? Cum on this cock. _Now.”_

You didn’t need to be told twice – you’d been holding it in since he stopped you before, and as he dipped his hand around the front of you to meet your clit, you couldn’t stop yourself even if you tried. You cried out, your screams filling the room unashamedly loudly and you came so hard it caused you to go lightheaded. Your waves of ecstasy caused your pussy to pulse and throb, gripping tightly around his cock that triggered his own climax to spurt inside of you.

He rode out your highs, slowing down his movements until he finally stopped altogether, staying inside you for a few minutes to regain control of his breathing before pulling out of you. Normally, you would rush to the bathroom to stop any leakage when things had gotten a little messy, but you could not physically move at that moment. All you could do was allow your body to flop down on the bed, tired and overwhelmed with pleasure. You’d _never_ come that hard in your whole life, not when it had been at the hands of someone other than yourself. It was normally a chore to get an orgasm with a man, but it was like this guy had the key to your pleasure and all he had to do was unlock it at the right time.

And you didn’t even know his name.

You’d barely noticed he’d stepped out of the room when you’d collapsed, only until he reappeared with a towel and sat down on the bed next to you. You gained the strength to turn your head to look at him, noticing his eyes were on you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Well? Good?” he asked.

“Shut up,” you replied with a laugh. “I don’t need to answer that.”

“You’re right… I _felt_ how good it was. Your pussy was like a boa constrictor around my dick with how hard you came, sweetheart.”

You laughed again as you reached up and punched him in the arm.

You finally managed to find the strength to pull yourself into a sitting position, grabbing the towel to set it under yourself so any… _spillage_ wasn’t going to soak the bed sheets. You’d go to the bathroom to sort yourself out soon enough, but now you just wanted to savour the moment.

You just laid there for a bit, the two of you, listening to each other’s breathing patterns finally settle into something more normal, occasionally looking at one another and just enjoying the company. You wished every day could be like this, relaxing in the company of someone you felt comfortable with, but you knew when you woke up the next morning you would have to go back to your normal life. You didn’t want to think about that right now.

The two of enjoyed the silence, until he decided to break it a few moments later.

“My name’s Dean, by the way.”

You smiled, rolling onto your side to look up at him.

“Name’s Y/N.”

“Beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you.”

You let out a chuckle at the compliment and you shook your head. “Come now, you don’t need to keep up the charming act. You’ve already slept with me.”

Dean let out a chuckle and mimicked your movement, turning onto his side to capture your gaze, reaching forward to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “There’s no act. You’re genuinely beautiful. And I’m not just saying that to get you to go another round with me, either.”

You were suddenly glad the room was dark, since you were sure you were blushing. Ew, you never blushed, what’s that all about? “Hey, if you wanted to go another round, I wouldn’t say no, act or not.” You shot him a wink, but the way he raised his brows in surprise let you know that while he may have been joking when he mentioned a second round before, he was definitely into the idea of it actually happening. And with that, you practically launched yourself on top of him and pressed your lips hungrily against his, as if you’d never separated them before.

* * *

You woke up with a bright light shining through the crack in the blinds, directly into your face. You grimaced, groaning at the sudden pounding in your head. You tried to remember where you where and what happened the previous night, but all you needed was to feel to body heat behind you to know exactly what happened. You smirked to yourself, turning around to look at the sleeping figure behind you, arms wrapped tight as he held you in a spooning position which you were sure you were in when you had fallen asleep, too. _Damn_ , you thought, _must have been a heavy sleep if we spooned all night._

You reached over to grab your phone from the side table and saw it was 6:45am. You sighed to yourself, wanting to stay where you were, be there when Dean woke up and maybe had a round three. Or… well, five, considering how things went last night. But you knew what you had to do. Get back to the job. Get back to your old ways of going about your business on your own, relying on nobody and getting close to no one for the sake of their safety. You sometimes wished you never had to, but you were in no position to back out of the life you lived now.

And with that, you peeled yourself from Dean’s hold, grabbed your stuff and quickly got dressed into your dress from last night, before slipping out the motel door as quietly as you could. Dean would understand, you were sure. He seemed like the guy that had probably done the same thing to other women before, and you were sure he knew why it was best avoiding the awkward morning-after chats. Although, there was a part inside of you that felt like it wouldn’t be awkward with Dean. You guys just seemed to connect that way.

You walked back to the bar, hoping your car that you’d left there the previous night was still intact. It wasn’t special – just a busted old pickup truck you’d gotten cheap when you knew you’d be travelling a lot, but it was one of the few things that you could proudly say belonged to you. As you reached it, you sighed in relief – it seemed to be in one piece. With that, you unlocked the backseat door and grabbed the duffel bag that sat behind the passenger’s seat to pull out a few clothes that would be more comfortable to travel in – that being tank top and sweatpants with flip-flops. It wasn’t much, but enough to last you until you could find a motel and shower.

After quickly changing behind your truck – it was quiet and you weren’t shy anyway – you hopped into the front and started up the truck. Before taking off, you pulled out your phone and hit call on a familiar contact.

“Hey, kid,” they said as they answered the other end of the line, “how’s it going?”

“Hey, Bobby, I’m good. Got any cases for me?”

“Yeah, yeah I do, actually. Vamp’s nest a few towns over from ya – Branson. Not too big, maybe five or six of them, but they’ve obviously gotten a taste for human blood and are killin’ townsfolk left, right and centre. Lemme know when you get there, and I’ll send you some more intel.”

“Sweet, Bobby. I’ll call you when I’m there.”

“Thanks, kid. Talk soon.”

He hung up and you chucked your phone onto the passenger’s seat, before pulling out of the bar’s parking lot and taking off in the direction of Branson, Missouri. You turned your music up loud and enjoyed the sweet sounds of Janis Joplin the whole ride there.


	2. We'll Meet Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! thanks for reading so far. i actually love writing this series, and hope you enjoy it too!

**DEAN’S POV**

Dean woke up to find you were gone, and despite how many times this had happened to him, it actually bothered him this time.

You were… wow, gorgeous, phenomenal in bed and incredibly intelligent and engaging. He’d genuinely had an amazing night with you and hadn’t expected you to be the type to bail the morning after, but he guessed he was wrong.

He sighed to himself when he woke up, because he knew the bed was empty. There was a part of him that hoped you’d still be somewhere in the apartment room when he opened his eyes, but as he pulled himself out of bed to have a quick scan of the room, he could tell he was alone.

“Damnit,” he muttered to himself as he started to search for clean clothes to dress himself in. As he pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, he heard his phone start to buzz on the bedside table, quickly reaching over to grab it before it vibrated itself onto the floor.

“Hey, Sammy,” he answered, chucking the phone on the bed after turning it on speaker phone. He continued to move around the room to pack up his stuff, shoving everything into a small duffel bag before he grabbed his shoes and sat on the bed to put them on.

“Hi Dean, good night?” Sam asked, the slight tone of awkwardness since he knew exactly what Dean’s intentions were when he’d left the bunker yesterday evening.

“Awesome, Sammy. It was awesome.”

“Good. That’s good to hear. Listen, I’ve found us a case. Possible vamps’ nest in Branson, Missouri. People are going missing and when they’re found weeks later, they’ve been totally drained of blood.”

“Missouri? That’s where I am right now. Actually, only a couple of towns over. I could meet you there?”

“Huh, convenient. Yeah, sure. Find us a motel and I’ll leave now.”

“Nice, I’ll text you the address to the motel.”

“Cool, see ya there.”

The call ended and Dean quickly took a quick final scan of the room, checking he had everything before he left the room. After checking out at the main reception, he headed back to the Impala and climbed in. He still hated the fact that he had been ditched before he even got a chance to say goodbye to you, but he quickly accepted that it wasn’t meant to be, and that was probably for the best.

He cranked up the radio and pulled out onto the main road, following the signs to Missouri.

**  
READER’S POV**

You checked into a cheap motel near the centre of town, dropped your things off, quickly showered and changed into your FBI gear. A fitting pencil skirt paired with a black short-sleeved blouse and the same black stilettos you’d been wearing the night before. Your hair was pinned up and you even accessorised with a smart pair of secretary glasses. You looked _hot_ , and you knew it. It got you far in this field of work, able to use it to your advantage and manipulate people for answers they normally wouldn’t give with your perfected flirtations. Plus, made you get a _lot_ of attention from handsome male cops, and that didn’t bother you at all.

You made your way to the police station to dig into more information about the nest. The only information Bobby had given you when you called him upon your arrival was that it was definitely a nest, located somewhere on the outskirts of town, and that they were usually targeting teenagers. The only thing was, there were a _lot_ of farmhouses on the outskirts of town and there would be a lot of ground to cover if you couldn’t narrow your options down, so you decided getting more intel would be more beneficial.

“Good morning, is the Sheriff around?” you asked as you entered the police station, all smiles and charm as you flashed your FBI badge. The young officer manning the desk looked at you with wide eyes and nodded, before vanishing to grab the sheriff.

They reappeared seconds later, and the Sheriff walked over to you and shook your hand. “Agent Jones,” you introduced yourself with a smile. “I’m here on behalf of the missing bodies of the… six teenagers, is it?”

“Seven. A new report came in last night. Fits the same vic profile. Eighteen years old, like the rest of them, same class as the rest of them, too.”

“Same class? They all attend the same school?”

“Yup, Northfield High. It’s about fifteen minutes North of here. The kids are real shook up over there – some parents aren’t even letting them attend. I don’t blame ‘em.”

“Jesus, that’s awful.”

“It is. But… as awful as it is, I don’t understand why the Feds had to get involved?”

“Well, my supervisor doesn’t feel like there’s been enough progress being made in terms of finding these young people, so that’s why he sent me here – to give you guys a hand. I don’t mean to step on your toes, Sheriff, but I’m here to do what I can to help.”

The Sheriff nodded and proceeded to show you the case files. There really _wasn’t_ a lot of evidence, but you’d gathered all you could before you decided to head out and drive to the local high school to see if you could question some students from the vic’s class.

Just as you pulled out of your space at the police station, the Winchesters pulled up behind you. You didn’t notice, too busy fiddling with your music to tide you over until you reached the school.  
  


**DEAN’S POV**

Dean met up with Sam at the motel and they wasted no time in changing into their FBI gear and headed to the police station. The officer by at the front desk looked confused.

“More of you?” he squeaked, obviously the victim of a nervous disposition.

Dean’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?”

“We’re here to see the Sheriff, is he aro—”

“More Feds? Do the government think we’re really that incompetent?” the Sheriff cut Sam off as he heard his words. “You here about the missing bodies too?”

The boys nodded at him. With a sigh, the Sheriff ushered for them to follow, showing them the exact same case files and telling them the same thing they told you about the school. It was easy to say Sam and Dean were beyond confused. Was there a real Fed on this case? Another hunter? The one thing they did know was, they weren’t that far behind you, and so they got back into the Impala and followed the signs towards the high school.

They arrived quickly, spotting an unusually grimy pickup truck sitting in front of the main entrance, but assumed it was just a student’s crappy hand-me-down. The boys headed to the reception office to meet the receptionist, who looked just as confused as the officer did back at the station.

“Are you here with the other agent? She’s already gone with the Principal,” she explained, raising a brow curiously at the boys.

“Wh—no—”

Sam cut Dean off quickly before he ruined any chance of them getting in. “—Yeah. We’re with her. Just running a little late. I’m surprised she didn’t mention us.”

The receptionist looked at Sam and Dean with a suspicious expression on her face, but handed them the sign-in book anyway. “She went to the auditorium. The Principal is gathering everyone who’s in class 4B. She said she wanted to question them.”

“Right, thank you. Which way is—”

“Down the hall, to the left.”

“Right, thanks,” Sam replied with a nod, before he and Dean took off in the direction of the assembly hall.

“What is going _on_ , dude? Is there another hunter working the same case?” Dean asked, almost frustrated that somebody was already on their case, _and_ two steps ahead of them.

“Whoever it is, we gotta play it cool and not blow anyone’s cover.”

“Right, play it cool,” Dean repeated, although he stopped in his tracks as soon as they approached the auditorium doors. His eyes locked on the figure in front of him, _immediately_ recognising _those_ legs in _those_ heels. He started to sweat, his eyes ascending slowly, recognising each curve of the body in front of him until he met her eyes. _Your_ eyes. Which, once you saw who was standing feet away from you, bulged in panic.

**  
READER’S POV**

You nearly choked on the coffee the Principal had given you a mere five minutes ago when you spotted him. Dean. From last night. Who you skipped out on this morning. _Fuck._

“Wh-what… Dean? What are you doing here?” you asked as you wiped your lips clean of the coffee that splashed against them, trying to compose yourself, which was exceptionally hard since Dean’s random and unexpected presence had _really_ caught you off guard.

“What am _I_ doing here? What are _you_ doing here?!” he exclaimed, demanding answers. Were you a real Fed? A hunter? This was what you ditched him to do? Without a _word?_

 _“_ Excuse me, this is my _job_ , thank you very much. I’m investigating the missing teenagers!” you retort with venom in your tone, eyes narrowing at him in a glare. Who was Dean to even question you like that?

“What are you? A Fed? You never thought to tell me?” Dean demanded. You swallowed hard.

“Yes, Dean, I _am_ FBI. And no, I don’t _have_ to tell anyone. _Especially_ a stranger, which – by the way – also didn’t tell me was a Fed!” You were lying through the skin of your teeth, but they didn’t need to know that. Unless… you… you are FBI right?”

Their faces went defensive, taken aback, like what you said was completely ridiculous and almost offensive. “What? Yeah. Obviously. What else would we be?” Dean scoffed, although his overly defensive tone made you a little suspicious.

The three of you paused, just looking at each other, trying to figure each other out before the silence was broken by the Principal, who walked through a set of double doors, followed by a line of about twenty kids who looked extremely uncomfortable and riddled with anxiety.

“Oh, hello there. You must be Agent Jones’ partners?” the Principal queried, surprised that there was a sudden increase in FBI agents in his school.

“Yes, we are. Agents Cole and Mason. Sorry we’re late.”

“No worries, agents. It’ll go quicker with three of you, right? Let’s get this started.”

The Principal briefed the students on what they were required to do, and he split them into groups for each of you to question. You took your group into the auditorium first, glad it was a large space to use so there could be some privacy away from Dean and the other guy with him.

“So, I’ll call you guys one by one and I’ll ask a few questions. Be as truthful as you can – everything will be confidential between you and I and you will _not_ get into any kind of trouble if you know something you shouldn’t,” you explain to the teenagers, who were looking at you wearily. You took the first person with you and sat them down away from their group before you started questioning them.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” you asked, a calming and reassuring tone to your voice as you flashed the girl a comforting smile.

“Marley. Marley Patterson.”

“And were you close to any of the victims who have gone missing recently, Marley?”

The young girl paused. “Yes. Joe. He was… he was my boyfriend. He went missing while… while we were on a date. I had just shouted at him… he wanted to… to _do_ stuff, but I didn’t, and I got mad, and then he ran off.” Her words were rushed, as if she was spitting them out to get it over with as soon as she could.

“And what happened then?”

“I heard his screams when I went looking for him. We were at the bowling alley… he was supposed to give me a ride home, but he was… he was gone by the time I got to where the screams came from. There was blood… it led a trail into the woods behind the bowling alley.”

Marley was getting upset, tears pooling in her eyes and when she blinked, one fell down her cheek. Your heart broke for her, knowing how terrifying it must have been for her to go through something like that, and how helpless she probably felt. You reached over to place your hand over hers comfortingly. “Thank you, Marley. And don’t worry, we’ll try our best to get Joe back, I promise.”

She nodded as she wiped away her tears. You dismissed her after handing her your business card with your number on it, instructing her that if she heard any more news about any of the missing people to call you straight away. You did this for all of the kids after you’d questioned them, most of them getting upset as they spoke to you, some of them not wanting to say anything at all because it made them too emotional. You did your best to comfort everyone that needed it, and by the end of the session you came away with some great intel. You met up with Dean and his partner once the students had been sent back to class.

“Well… that was a waste,” Dean said defeatedly, looking down at the blank page he held in his hands. He looked over at the other man, who you heard Dean calling Sam, asking if he got anything. Sam seemed to be lacking info too. You smirked to yourself as they turned their attention to you, their eyes widening as you turned your notebook around to show two full pages of notes.

“Guess it just took a woman’s touch,” you said with a shrug.

You could see Dean swallowing as he eyed you, a slight glare as he looked at you. You shot him a wink before you walked out of the auditorium. “I’m going to grab a coffee and figure out my next plan. Feel free to join me if you wish.”

You didn’t check to see if they’d follow, you just knew they would. As you stepped out of the school, you spotted the same Impala from last night and smirked at the memories it triggered in your mind. As awkward as your initial meeting was after this morning, you found it amusing that you’d bumped into Dean again, and in such coincidental circumstances. You heard the front doors of the school open behind you as you walked to your truck, climbing into it and taking off in search of the nearest diner. The boys followed closely behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there ya go :D
> 
> hopefully you enjoyed, i'm happy with the relationship and tension between the reader and Dean so far, and have some juicy stuff planned for future chapters. lemme know if you want more (although i'll probs post more regardless ;))
> 
> thanks for reading <3
> 
> [follow me on tumblr!](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)


	3. Cross the Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiiii me again! sorry this took so long to update - work has been a total bitch this past week and i've been knackered. hopefully the length of this chapter makes up for it! lots of action in this one :)
> 
> lemme know what you think! i really enjoy writing this one, i love the reader's personalty!

The diner you found was only a few blocks from the school. It was quiet and had a good selection on the menu – which you only realised was relevant when you remembered you hadn’t eaten today, and you were _starving._ You ordered yourself a coffee and pancakes by the time the boys finally found you and joined you.

“Dirty right turn there, dude,” Dean said with a glare bearing right into you when he approached the table and sat down with his partner. Alright, you had to admit… you did play with them a little, trying to purposely lose them with a few unpredictable turns… It was fun. Like cat and mouse, and hey – they caught you!

“Sorry you couldn’t keep up, sweetie,” you teased, shooting him a wink as you took a sip of your coffee. Dean continued to glare at you while Sam laughed.

The waitress arrived with your pancakes shortly after and Dean’s eyes went wide. “What?” you asked, raising your brows at him as you poured syrup over the cakes.

“Couldn’t wait for us to order either? Where’s your manners, sweetheart?” Dean replied.

You shrugged. “Guess I left them in bed this morning.”

There was that glare again, Dean’s gorgeous green eyes shooting daggers at your words. You couldn’t help but laugh, but only until he reached over with his fork, grabbing one of your pancakes right off the plate and shovelling most of it into his mouth, looking back at you with a cocky smirk as he chewed the cake. Now you were the one that glared.

“Dean! What the hell, dude?” Sam cut in, horrified that his brother had just done that to a total stranger, in his eyes.

Dean turned his gaze to Sam, cheeks still packed with pancakes like a hamster, and grinned, Sam grimacing at the sight of pancakes coating Dean’s inner cheek. “I wish I wasn’t related to you sometimes.”

“Related? Ah, so… brothers? Dean, you never told me that last night,” you spoke, trying to give Sam even just a hint that you and Dean had already become very acquainted with one another.

“Uh… yeah. You’ve met?” Sam asked curiously, looking between you and Dean.

“Oh, Dean, I have to say I’m slightly offended that you didn’t tell your brother who you were out with all last night,” you said with pouted lips and puppy dog eyes. Dean finally managed to swallow the last of your pancake and glared at you. Ah, there it is, you were beginning to miss the glare.

“Well, I would have, if only you hadn’t ditched me this morning.”

“What? This is the woman you were with last night? You didn’t tell me she ditched. You told me _you_ ditched,” Sam spoke questioningly, trying to figure things out, which only caused you to let out a snort of amusement at is words.

“Really, Dean? Wow.”

“Damnit, Sam. I’m never telling you anything again,” Dean hissed as he shot another glare towards his brother. Sam simply laughed at his misfortune.

“Sorry I had to leave you this morning, sweetie. I didn’t want to – I promise I didn’t, but duty called, and I didn’t want to disturb your peaceful slumber. You looked so… wholesome. Innocent.”

“And we all know merely hours before that, I was the exact opposite of innocent. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Dean retorted, a cocky smirk on his lips as he tried to challenge your teasing.

You laughed and shrugged. “Can’t argue with that, babe.”

Sam shook his head and grimaced. “Alright, enough. Can we just… move on?”

“Fine,” you said with a smile and shrug, taking another sip of your coffee before cutting off a piece of your pancake stack.

“Fine,” Dean replied, in an almost toddler-ish mocking tone. It brought you great amusement that you’d managed to get under his skin like that.

You continued to eat your breakfast and the boys ordered their own too, looking over your notes as you ate and drank your coffees. You’d deciphered that the vics had to be being held near the bowling alley, considering there were more than a few accounts of them going missing from there and being pulled into the trees behind it. Besides, a bowling alley was a great place to attract young and vulnerable teenagers, and it was a great place to catch them off-guard too, considering how deceivingly busy it usually was.

You decided that you’d go and check it out before dark, ‘for it to be safer with day light’, although you knew it was when vamps were the weakest. You all finished up your breakfasts and headed out to your vehicles. Before you could get into your truck, you were grabbed by the arm.

You span around to see Dean standing in front of you, pulling you in uncomfortably close in a public setting, and you looked up at him, keeping your cool composure. “Can I help you, Dean?”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I told you – duty called.”

“You didn’t even think to say bye? Or to give me your number? Not cool, dude.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, Dean. We’re adults. You and I both know that was just a one-night stand. No strings attached. I’m sure you’ve done it a million times before, as have I. It’s fine.”

“Right but… I dunno,” Dean paused, and it was then that you realised he loosened his grip on your arm which was a little too tight for your liking, “it was just… crazy good. You’re just… I dunno. Listen. Forget it. Let’s just get this thing done, then we can go our separate ways.”

Dean turned to walk back to his car when you called him back. “Dean?” He turned back to look at you, a glimpse of hope in his eyes at what you were about to say. “You’ve got a great dick.”

His face turned _beetroot_ at your words, totally caught off-guard by your prude words and quickly scampered back to the Impala. You laughed yourself all the way to the bowling alley after that.  
  


**DEAN’S POV**

“What happened, dude? What did she say?” Sam asked as Dean slid back into the driver’s seat of the Imapla. Immediately noticing the dark shade of crimson on his brother’s skin, he knew something had to have happened in the short exchange the two of you had just had.

“Nothing. It’s fine. I’m fine. She’s… never mind. Let’s just get the over and done with so we don’t need to deal with her anymore.”

“Dean… do you like her?”

“Shut it, Sammy. I mean it,” Dean warned, but that was all that Sam needed to hear. He knew exactly what Dean was like, and the fact that he was getting so defensive over his question meant there had to be something going on.

They followed you to the bowling alley and you started your hunt for clues around the site. It was around noon, so you had plenty of daylight to find and track the vamps before nightfall, but they wanted to get it over and done with as soon as they could. Or at least, Dean did, so he didn’t have to look at you and remind himself about the best night of his life which you didn’t seem to give two craps about.

The three of you decided to look inside first, ask a few questions to the staff and regular patrons before checking outside and following any trails you could find. The bowling alley was weirdly busy for the time of day, but it was a weekend, after all. There seemed to be a few bowling teams competing against each other in a few lanes, and then there were your typical teenagers hanging out by the arcade machines. Sam and Dean started walking towards the teenagers, but you pressed a hand to both their chests and told them it would look super creepy for two guys to walk up to them. You would handle the kids, and you instructed them to go talk to the staff. Dean downright refused at first, but Sam practically pulled him over to the staff desk.

Dean let Sam do the talking. Mostly because he didn’t care enough and didn’t like the way you had ordered him around, but also because he wanted to watch you work. He was close enough to hear what you were asking the kids, how you were approaching them and talking to them, and you had to admit it was kind-of a turn on watching you act so professional after seeing you the total opposite the night before. Although once those kinds of thoughts started to pop into his head, he tried to focus on Sam’s words beside him to stop any blood flow to his pants. _No boner in public, Dean. No boner._

When you regrouped, Sam explained that the staff had seem the missing vics hanging out with some ‘goth looking’ kids a few nights ago, a little older than them but not by much. They seemed to be trouble, often passing them, what seemed like, pills and it was then that staff had to start asking them to leave the premises if they were continuing to do things like that.

“That matches those kids’ stories then, too,” you added. “They’d been offered the same drugs as the vics, but they knew better and said no. The kids said the older goth kids were really creepy and pushy and they didn’t trust them at all.”

“So, they must be the vam— _villains,_ in all this then,” Dean said, correcting himself halfway when he nearly said vampires. That would’ve been a weird thing to explain to you.

Sam gave him a look of warning, knowing full well what Dean had just nearly done. “Yeah, they’re probably the ones taking the kids. And I’m guessing through those woods at the back of this place is where we’ll find them.”

“Right,” you said, “let’s go look then.”  
  


**Reader's POV**

Vamps? Was he about to say _vamps?_ You’d heard the way that Dean stopped himself mid-sentence and there was _no_ way in hell he naturally called bad guys ‘villains’. There was something fishy going on here, and you were going to find out either way.

As you headed outside of the bowling alley with the boys, you decided to split up to cover more ground. Sam took the left of the building, you took the right, and Dean would check the back. You agreed to meet back at the front in ten minutes, and then you all went your own ways.

There wasn’t anything abnormal looking at first. A little dirty with a few trash bags out of the garbage cans, a few food containers and packets here and there and a _lot_ of cigarette stubs dotted around the floor, but other than that it was just normal litter. Until, you found a spot of blood. You looked at it, and the area around it, and noticed it made a trail right into the woods, like Marley had described to you back at the school. You stopped as you reached the trees, trying to see if there were any other clues around that area without physically stepping into it, when you heard a twig snap a few feet away from you. You instinctively grabbed the pistol you kept holstered under your skirt and pointed it in the direction of where it came.

You couldn’t see anything suspicious, and only re-holstered the gun when you were certain you were safe. As you turned around however, you were met by Dean, who’d snuck up on you and had set up the whole thing to distract you so he could do so, making you jump out of your fucking skin as he poked your ribs and exclaimed ‘boo!’.

You screamed, jumping back before clutching your chest. If looks could kill, the way your eyes bore into Dean’s skull would certainly have him dead. “You’re a fucking idiot. Why would you do that? Fuck you, Dean.”

At this point, Dean was hollering with laughter. “You shoulda seen your face, though! Priceless.” He was wiping tears away when Sam came running up to you, obviously concerned by your screams.

“What happened? Are you okay? I heard screams,” Sam said worriedly, looking between you two and knowing exactly what happened judging by the way you were both reacting. “You’re such a dick, Dean.”

“You shoulda _seen_ her face, Sammy. Honestly, the best jump scare I’ve ever given.”

“You’re an asshole,” you hissed at him, folding your arms over your chest.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t go all pouty with me. Here, I’ll kiss it better, mwah-mwah-mwah…” Dean started to walk towards you, arms outstretched to give you a cuddle as he puckered his lips and kissed his teeth.

“Fuck off,” you warned, taking a step back. “Can we please just be professional and get this case done? I’ve got better things to do than fuck around with immature Feds.”

“What, like hook up with random dudes, have the best sex of your life, then vanish without a trace the next morning?”

Your face was enough to tell Dean he’d crossed the line. It was fine when you were just teasing him, but there was venom in his words, and he’d turned what you’d done against you. You were done with this shit.

“Fuck you, Dean. You know what? I’m glad I didn’t stay there another minute. But maybe if I had, I’d have learned how much of a fucking dick you are! Don’t bother staying on this case. I’ll work it alone.” You swivelled on your heels and started marching back towards your truck. You could hear Dean calling out to you from behind, ‘ _it was a joke’, ‘don’t walk away’, ‘wait!’._ You were having none of it. You gave them a chance to work with you, and it only affirmed everything you’d lived by up ‘til now. Working alone was the only way to get things done.

You got into your truck, started it up, and pulled onto the road that would take you through the woods. You were finishing this case, Dean or no Dean.  
  


**DEAN’S POV**

Shit. _Fuck._ What did he just do? Totally blew it, trying to be funny. But even he had to admit, he really did cross the line.

Sam scolded him the whole journey towards the vampire’s nest. “You drove her away, and now she’s going to get taken by vampires and she may get hurt, or worse. All because you decided to be a dickwad because she left you this morning. Grow up, Dean. You need to get _over_ your abandonment issues.”

Sam’s words stung, but it was Dean needed to hear and _deserved_ to hear. He did have some deep-rooted issues from childhood that he never did deal with, but that didn’t mean he had to take it out on everyone who left him regardless of how long he’d known them for.

They followed the trail up a long and winding road through the woods, until they were met with an open space within the woods, the trees towering over them and blocking any sunlight. They spotted your truck parked at the side of the road, but when they checked if you were inside it, it was empty. Brows furrowing in concern, they parked the Impala next to your truck and grabbed a couple of machetes out the trunk. After that they looked around to see where you could have gone and where the vamp’s nest was situated.

The boys started walking through along the trail, following any tracks they could find, unsure of what they were even supposed to look for until Dean heard a _clang_ under his foot. Confused, he looked down, unsure of why the dirt was making a noise like that, until he clocked it. Quickly, he dug through the woodland debris, seeing that the leaves had been purposely put on top to look like normal ground, but in fact was hiding a secret hatch. They managed to open it – weirdly enough, it wasn’t locked; but they figured they would have been relying on their camouflage to prevent any intruders.

As they opened up the secret metal door, it revealed a ladder that went further than they could see. Sam and Dean exchanged uneasy glances at one another at this revelation. “Dude… I hate going dark down holes that we can’t see the bottom of. It’s like we’re _asking_ to be eaten.”

“We don’t really have a choice right now, Dean,” Sam replied, as uncomfortable as Dean but they had no idea where you had disappeared to, and their number one priority right now was finding you and getting you to safety.

With a defeated sigh, Dean holstered his machete before stepping down onto the ladder first, looking up at Sam before he started to climb down. “If I die, Sammy, this is _your_ fault. In no way my own for being an asshole earlier. All yours.”

Sam rolled his eyes and waited for Dean to get about halfway down before he stepped onto the ladder himself. The two descended into the darkness, until Dean’s feet finally hit solid floor. It was wet – of course it was, and the smell of their surroundings was enough to confirm that they were definitely in a sewer system.

“Man, I hate sewers,” Dean whined, taking his flashlight from his jacket pocket and clicking it on.

“Are you going to stop complaining or can we just find Y/N?” Sam replied, turning on his own flashlight and pointing it in both directions of the sewer tunnel, checking to see if they had any unexpected company. The coast seemed clear, and they started walking towards the direction that seemed the safest.

As they continued their journey through the tunnel, they heard voices growing increasingly louder as they approached. Finally, they came to a door, which was definitely where the voices were coming from.

“We can’t bust in guns blazin’. We don’t know how many there are. We need to create a distraction to draw them out,” Sam suggested, and Dean nodded. They turned back to dip into a connecting tunnel, a couple of meters or so from the door, and both started banging the ends of their blades against the concrete walls, loud enough to cause the voices to go quiet and for them to hear footsteps approaching the other side of the door.

They ducked behind into their tunnels for cover, and one by one continued to tap their machetes against the walls, leading the vamps out and into their deaths, the boys’ blades meeting the vamps’ throats as they turned the corner. There were only two of them that had come out to check, and they had figured it wasn’t a big nest to start with, so they nodded to each other to indicate they were clear to move into the main room.

They approached stealthily, holding their flashlights down until they stepped inside. It was oddly quiet, no more vamps to be found, but their eyes caught sight of what they’d come for almost immediately as they entered. You were tied up by your wrists to a metal bar hanging from the wall, next to a line of teenagers who the boys assumed were the missing kids. Some were conscious, desperately pleading for you to untie them and let them go, and others were, quite obviously, dead, the flesh starting to rot away from their bones now.

Dean approached you, trying to wake you up from your unconscious state, which fortunately you did after he tapped your cheek gently with his fingertips. As you stirred, he let out a sigh of relief. “Hey, hey. It’s me. It’s Dean. Listen, we’re gonna get you out of here. It’s not safe for you to stay here.”

He began cutting the ropes binding your wrists together, ready to catch your weight when they finally broke.

“D-Dean, wait, I need to tell you—”

“Sh-shh, it’s okay, you can tell me later.”

“N-no… that’s not—”

As Dean got you down from your restraints, Sam worked on getting the remaining survivors down from their ropes, too. Little did he know, the whole thing was a trap.

“Sa-am, wait—” you tried once again, before finally the ropes of one of the vic’s snapped and suddenly she sprung to life, teeth pointing out of her face in all directions as she let out a nasty screech. Sam landed hard on his back, instantly trying to fend off the vamp attack. His machete was just out of reach, but fortunately Dean was already taking the girl’s head off with a quick swoop.

But, that wasn’t enough. It was all planned out – lore the Winchesters in, make them feel like they’re somewhat safe and distract them with your rescue, and then ambush them when they least expected it. They heard the growls entering the room, vampires appearing from adjoining tunnels, way more than you’d expected. The three of you were surrounded, outnumbered by way more than you had expected.  
  


**Reader's POV**

You tried to regain your composure quickly, but the vamps had certainly given you a nasty beating as they had captured you. You’d been ambushed, believing there would only be four or five in this nest, max, but they must have been busy recruiting all the teenagers, turning them and forcing them to join the nest. And now it was just you and the Winchesters to defend yourselves against the whole nest. Fortunately, it was clear now that they’d certainly dealt with this sort of thing before, considering they were both wielding a machete each. You’d dropped yours after you were captured, and you assumed they had confiscated it and put it somewhere out of reach, so you were left unarmed and defenceless.

“I need something to fight with,” you shouted to the boys. They nodded, and Dean handed you over his machete before rearming himself with a pocketknife.

“Really?” you asked, cocking a brow up at his new weapon of choice. “What you gonna do with that? Tickle them?”

“Shut up. I’ll make it work.”

You didn’t have time to question it again, quickly being thrown into battle as you were surrounded by four vamps. You’d been in many-a-situation like this before, and honestly, you sometimes got a little bored if you were only facing one enemy. You quickly took them down one by one, blood splattering and heads flying as the bodies dropped onto the ground with a satisfying _thud_. Your heart was pounding, the adrenaline keeping you upright and alert, each vampire coming at you being quickly put down before they could even land a hit.

You had time to breathe and reassess the situation when there were no more vamps coming your way, enough to see that Sam and Dean were also dropping bodies as easily as you were.

“Everybody good?” you asked, trying to steady your laboured breathing, taking the time to check yourself and the boys over for any injuries. Aside from a few gashes on your head and overall achiness of your body from being manhandled and tied up, you felt fine.

“All good,” Sam nodded, his broad shoulders heaving as he tried to steady himself.

“You’re a hunter?” Dean asked without hesitation, looking at you with focused eyes.

“Uh… yeah, I guess. Surprise.” You shot him a weak smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Do _you_ tell all your hook ups that you hunt monsters for a living?”

“Well, uh—no, not—”

“—exactly. I had no reason to. I honestly didn’t think this would happen like this, either. I thought I’d find a way to get you guys to drop the case and let me handle it alone, so I wouldn't even _have_ to mention the whole vampire thing.”

“And aren’t you glad you didn't? You woulda been 100% dead, sweetheart, hanging up there like a slaughtered chicken.”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t think the nest was that big. My contact said it was only about five or six—”

“Your contact?” Sam asked, raising his brows curiously.

“Yeah, an old friend. Bobby Singer.”

“You know Bobby?”

“Uh, yeah. He helped me out when I first got into the life. Saved my ass a few times too. Now he gives me jobs in nearby states.”

The boys paused, exchanging looks between each other as if they were having a full-blown conversation without saying a word. “So… if you’ve known Bobby all this long, how come we’ve never heard of you?” Dean asked.

You shrugged. “I dunno. I usually work alone. He probably thought you would get in my way.”

Dean went to say something. Probably something snarky or mocking. But Sam simply laughed it off. “Come on. We can do catch up later. Let’s get these bodies out of here and call the sheriff.”

You could feel Dean’s eyes on you the whole time you spent cutting down the leftover corpses and half-dead teenagers. The few that were still alive had been freshly turned, but luckily hadn’t fed yet and were very easily cured after you figured out who the big-bad boss vampire was. Some ugly looking Dracula-wannabe with a weird looking pendant hanging around his neck. Sam whipped up the cure with the remaining survivors while you and Dean disposed of the decapitated vamp remains, bar one – which you would use as the ‘deranged psycho killer’ for your excuse when the cops came. The dead human bodies, you laid out by the side of the road so the coroners could collect for the families to see.

As the authorities began to arrive once you had gotten rid of the vamp evidence, Sam convinced them that the three of you had followed the blood trail by the bowling alley to the hatch, finding the victims tied up and tortured in the sewers by a psychopath. The cops bought it pretty much without question, and the Sherif thanked the three of you for being so vigilant when they hadn’t been.

“All in a day’s work, Sheriff,” Dean said, before the three of you got into your cars and headed back into town.

You were in desperate need of some rest, and it was no surprise that the Winchesters had booked the same motel as you. Figures, you knew deep down you wouldn’t be able to shake Dean that easily, and after you’d disappeared to your room to clean and dress your wounds and take a nice, hot shower, you heard a knock on your door.

Opening it up, you already knew who it was.

“Hi, Dean,” you said, opening the door to allow him access. You were only in a pair of shorts and a tight tank top, basically ready to hit the hay once your hair had dried from the shower.

“Hey, I just wanted to… well, I came to apologise for what I said earlier,” he started, looking at you in the eye with a genuine look on his face.

“I’m listening.”

“I was out of line. I had no place to snap at you like I did at the bowling alley, and I shouldn’t have used what you did against you. I don’t know you. Apart from last night, we were – we _are_ practically still strangers. And I get it, it was just a one-night stand and I’m not supposed to get attached or anything, and usually I don’t, but I just… I dunno, you’re sorta… different.”

“Different?” you question, a small smirk twinging the corner of your lips as you sat down on the motel bed, resting your back against the headboard, allowing your bare legs to be in full view. Dean couldn’t help but look them up and down, taking in your gorgeous body that he’d had full access to the night before. He swallowed down, hard, trying to keep it together.

“U-uh… y’know, just… well, you’re a badass, obviously. Beautiful, sexy, intelligent… and, from what I’ve seen, a pretty good hunter. I just kinda liked the fact that you were different. Now I know why, I guess. Us hunters are pretty unique.” He let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, exposing his strong, muscular arms which you loved being wrapped up in the night before.

“Well, I don’t blame you, Dean. I am, like you say, pretty unique. You won’t ever meet a chick like me. Ever. And I can guarantee that.”

“Yeah…” Dean’s eyes wandered across your body again, swallowing as his eyes gazed over your perky tits which he noticed were unrestricted by anything other than your tank top, your pert nipples subtly poking through the material.

“Dean. Here’s the thing,” you spoke, quickly pulling yourself up out of bed to walk over to him, closing the gap between you quickly, Dean’s eyes locked on you. “I don’t do ‘strings attached’, in any shape or size. No friends, no family, no lovers. I do ' _fucks'_. Meaning, I don’t form any connection between the person I’m fucking except physically, and for one night only. However, you were… _hot_ last night. You had me cumming more times than I could count, and that’s rare. So… I’ll make you an offer. I’ll give you another night with me, should you wish, but tomorrow I’m out of here. Before you wake up. Before you can say goodbye. Before you get my number. No connections. No nothing.”

Dean watched your lips as you spoke, eyes filling with lust and growing hungry with every word describing how good he made you feel the night before, and you didn’t even need to know his answer to know what the result would be. But you needed to know he was on the same page. “Do we have a deal?” you asked, pulling him out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting yours.

“Sweetheart, if that means I get to feel that delicious pussy around my dick again – count me in.”

You didn’t need anything more than that, before you leaned up and captured Dean’s lips with your own. The tension was incredible between you, building up so quickly that the kiss felt so relieving, so needy and desperate to feel each other again. You had to admit, since bumping into Dean again, you’d been thinking about how he’d made you feel, and you would be lying if you said you’d be happy to leave town without feeling his hands on you again.

It was so effortless, the pleasure the two of you could create together. Exploring each other’s bodies like you had a map to it, hitting each other’s sensitive spots seamlessly.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, and you were sure the whole motel could hear what you were doing to each other. In bed, in the shower, over the dining table, on the floor… wherever you could have each other. You felt more pleasure than you’d ever before, and when you finally opened your eyes at the crack of dawn, you were almost sad you had to leave Dean again. But that was your deal, and you knew it was for the best. So, once again, you gathered up your things, packed your bags and disappeared without a trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there ya go! sorry it was kind-of a fade-out situation in terms of the smut - i felt like the chapter was already too long to go into detail, but it was basically a repeat of their first encounter ;) 
> 
> more to come soon, hopefully! hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Distractions, Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. me again. back so soon, too!
> 
> i'm honestly a bit obsessed with this fic. always thinking about it. always wanting to write more. and boyyyyyy do i have some things planned for this fic! 
> 
> the next chap is written and full of some juicy, juicy content, so lemme know if you want more and that'll be posted asap!

You had purposely chosen your next destination to be somewhere far, far away from Sam and Dean. You’d found a suitable case in the small town of Ketchum, Idaho, showing signs of a possible haunting, with the local papers even advertising the affected house as the ‘Most Unhabitable House in Town’, taunting the fact that every owner so far had moved out almost within a month of moving in, and the house itself had a long history of deaths. Perfect for a simple case, you thought; and something that could take your mind off Dean with. Although, that seemed to be somewhat of an issue, you found, as you finally settled into your motel and began your initial investigations. Dean was a constant thought, fleeting in and out of your head with every spare moment. Everything reminded you of him: the low growl of an older engine, the smell of whisky from the local bar, or literally _any_ man with short, dirty blond hair and a muscular frame. Yet, none of them compared to the real thing. It bugged you, significantly, that he had managed to make a mark on your brain, yet you refused to let it impact you. _This wasn’t you,_ you would remind yourself, shaking off the latest thought of Dean’s calloused fingers tracing the length of your waist, _and you need to get a fucking grip of yourself, Y/N._

You shut the engine of your truck off after you’d pulled up to the house in question. You figured you better get a first-hand look yourself to see what the big fuss was about. The house was currently empty, no permanent residents living there since the last ones abandoned it a mere week after moving in, so you didn’t have to worry about anybody getting in the way. As you approached the front door, you could already feel the chilled air rush down your body, prickling your skin with goose bumps as you pulled out your EMF reader. It went _nuts_ , screeching full bars at you before you had even set foot in the house, and you knew this case was going to be an interesting one.

The house was absolutely freezing as soon as you entered the house, and although it was to be expected since the mountains surrounding the small town were snow capped and the roads were icy, it was as if there was _no_ insulation whatsoever, like hadn’t even stepped into a building at all and were still directly exposed to the elements outside.

You held your salt-loaded shotgun close to you, ready to aim it at any on-coming threats as you walked around, examining the house for any clues as to what had gone on or any presence of the supernatural. There were plenty of sounds happening around you; floorboards creaking, doors opening, the sounds of objects dropping onto the floor above you. They didn’t startle you. You were used to spirits trying to spook you. But one thing that _did_ happen to catch you eye, and send a shiver down your spine, was the large portrait hanging in the living room. It was a family portrait that looked centuries old, dust and cobwebs coating the frame but totally clear when it came to the painting itself, as if there was an invisible force stopping any debris gathering on it and tainting it. The family in the painting itself looked pretty creepy, too – a mother and father, you assumed, with two children, a son and daughter, sitting next to a miserable looking basset hound. All staring _directly_ at you. One of those paintings that certainly followed you as you walked around, watching your every step as you investigated the living room. They were clad in all black, an unusual form of attire for the time period, you assumed again, since black was usually worn only in a time of mourning. You made a mental note to dig in a little deeper to the history of the portrait when you finally got to your research. For now, you decided to look around the rest of the house before it got dark.

There wasn’t anything catching your eye after that, except for the fact that both the basement and attic were locked with keys nowhere to be found within the house. Most of the rooms were empty apart from a few left-behind pieces of furniture that look like they were from a similar time period of the portrait downstairs, and the rest of it looked normal. There weren’t any actual sightings of any spirits, but you knew they were probably investigating you as much as you were them.

So, you called it a day, heading back to your truck and then to your motel room to crack into your research. You were a huge nerd when it came to researching, always having an arsenal of books at your disposal and your laptop was practically glued to your body at any given moment on a case (if you weren't out investigating or actually killing the thing you were hunting), and you were very particular about your notations when it came to gathering your information. Everything had to be neat, clear and organised, so if you needed to refer back to it in the future, you knew exactly where to look, which was why you’d spent many years creating an archive on your computer of all the cases you’d done and completed. It had certainly come in handy a few times before.

It was just after midnight when you decided to call it quits for the night and head to bed. But, of course, that wasn’t your cue to sleep straight away – your brain made sure of that, filtering one thought after another of Dean into your mind, keeping you _wide_ awake no matter how much you tried to sleep. Your body ached, yearning to feel his rough hands on your skin again, holding you as he fucked you senseless, hitting _all_ your good spots and knowing exactly what to do to make you scream. _Fuck_ , you thought to yourself, trying to will the thoughts away, but you knew there was only one way your body would stop and that was to totally give into your fantasies and relieve yourself.

So, with a sigh, you slipped your hand under the waistband of your panties, feeling the small puddle pooling at your clit, and you let out a small, breathy moan as you pressed your fingertips to the sensitive nub, allowing every dirty thought of Dean you’d been trying to push away fill your mind and entice you to your next orgasm.

**  
Dean’s POV**

Dean wasn’t exactly proud of himself, having to wipe himself off with a tissue in the bathroom like a freakin’ teenager, after having woken up with an intense case of morning wood that would just _not_ go away by itself. And of course, what caused it? You. _Of course_ , it was you. It was all Dean had thought about since he woke up to find his bed empty yet _again_ after you’d left him after _another_ amazing night of ecstasy. Had he done something wrong? No, he couldn’t have. He _knew_ he’d done everything _right_ to keep you cumming and moaning and _screaming_ his name the whole night. Sammy made sure to whine about it the next morning, considering your noises had kept him up most of the night even though you were a few rooms down from his, to Dean’s amusement. But it still wasn’t enough to keep you there.

Dean knew why. You’d told him and made it _clear_ that you were a lone wolf, not wanting to be tied down to anything, and he got that. He lived that. But… you and him, you were so similar. Living the same life, had the same experiences, had the same desires, thoughts and feelings. Yet, it wasn’t enough to change your mind and make you stay, and that bugged the ever-loving shit out of him. He just wanted to wake up one morning and for you to be there, looking up at him with those gorgeous doe eyes and proceed to deal with his morning wood instead of having to jerk it away like he had to twenty freakin’ years ago.

Once he’d flushed the last of his messy toilet paper down the drain, Dean turned to look at himself in the mirror. _Goddamn it, dude. Are you losing your touch? Normally chicks are begging to stay with you, kicking and screaming once you ask them to leave. Yet, this one… it’s like she can’t stand to stay with you. Are you… old? Is this what it’s like to be one of those creepy old dudes trying their hardest to hit on women way out of their league? Shit._ Dean quickly shook himself out of those thoughts. He couldn’t think like that, not anymore. He had enough experience to tell him that he was above all of those dudes he was comparing himself to. He’d saved the frickin’ world, for Christ’s sake. More than once, too, and saved multiple people along the way. He was so above them. Yet… you – you made him think otherwise.

Again, he tried to snap out of his thoughts, knowing it wasn’t doing him any good getting into his own head about these things. He quickly washed his hands and left the bathroom, only to see Sam slipping his shoes onto his feet. Sam looked up at his big brother, cocking a brow at him. “You okay, dude? You’ve been in there a while.”

“I’m good. Just… think those burgers from last night didn’t agree with me.”

“And here I thought you were immune to junk food. You must be getting old, dude.” Sam laughed, but Dean’s jaw tensed, and he shot his brother daggers.

“Shut up, Sammy. I’ll still be running circles around you when we’re in our sixties.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to run anywhere if you continue with those dodgy burgers, Dean.”

Again, all Dean could reply with was a glare and Sam kept laughing at his brother, amused at how offended Dean seemed to get by his playful taunts. “Anyway, I found us a case.”

Dean only half listened to Sam’s briefing about the possible werewolf case a state over from them. You kept entering his thoughts, _refusing_ to leave him alone. Those hips… your soft skin… your plump ass, resting perfectly between his palms as he took you from behind, the sound of your skin slapping together mercilessly echoing through his ears. He only snapped out of it when he realised Sam had been saying his name for the past thirty seconds.

“Dean! What is up with you, man?”

“Oh. Sorry. Nothing.”

“Bullcrap. You’ve not been yourself since Y/N left you, again.”

 _Again._ Dean had to admit, even just hearing that stung, and again he shot his brother a dirt look. “Shut it, Sammy. I don’t care about her.”

“Lies. You’re totally into her. And you need to get a grip and tell her, or move on.”

“I’m not into her, Sam. It was a one—it was a _two_ -time thing, alright? Just a hook up. Like I _always_ do. And I’ll do again in no time, with no problem. She’s just another chick, alright?”

“Well, can you focus then please? Need you sharp for this one.”

Dean grumbled something under his breath but nodded in response. “Fine. Where’s the pack hiding out?”

**  
Reader's POV**

The family in the portrait was the Peterson family, nicknamed the ‘family of death’ during their lives. They were alive during the third epidemic of the plague in early 1900s, originally infecting San Francisco, California which was where the Petersons had originally lived before moving to Ketchum around 1902. It was thought that the family was immune to the disease and were carriers, infecting anybody that came into contact with them, and for a while they were left unnoticed until the whole town of Ketchum was infected apart from them. There were suddenly hordes of people outside of their house, angry mobs of infected people trying to beat their doors down and kill them before they could spread the illness any further.

Digging more into the family, you also found out that they were part of some sort of cult, which explained the black clothing – representation. The cult was formed of witches, wanting to use their dark magic to spread chaos, but with such small numbers of them they needed to recruit humans to do their dirty business for them, granting them benefits if they decided to join them – hence the plague immunity.

The family were brutally murdered by the mobs, beaten and bludgeoned to death until their bodies were unrecognisable, thus forming multiple vengeful spirits bound to the house they perished in. They were chaotic spirits, taunting and tormenting anyone who dared entered their house, playing mind games and sinister tricks on the new residents until it drove them out. They were intelligent spirits with full control over their antics, and you figured that had probably come from the protective spell the witches had put on them – essentially protecting them from the effects of staying in the veil for too long, prolonging the time they had before they went crazy and became uncontrollably violent. They wanted to have their fun first.

Luckily for you, the family had been buried in a nearby cemetery. Unluckily for you, the graves were left blank, protecting their headstones from any vandalism from the angry residents of Ketchum. You had your work cut out, and it was already getting dark, so you decided to head to the cemetery and try to hunt down their graves.

It was pitch black by the time you found them. Fortunately, it didn’t take you too long – four blank gravestones lined up in a row, it wasn’t hard to guess it was them. You started digging up the graves, only lit by the small lantern you’d brought, and you were suddenly appreciative that it was cold because digging graves was _definitely_ a workout.

You went into autopilot after you’d salted and burned the first corpse, weirdly enough without any issues. Dig, throw. Dig throw. Dig… hmm, you could just picture Dean doing this, sweat glistening his perfectly sculpted abs, biceps flexing with every movement, jeans hugging him perfectly and exposing his toned v-lines… Of course, he’d be doing this shirtless, because why wouldn’t he be?

You didn’t even try to fight the dirty thoughts that entered your mind. They helped pass the time, after all, and by the time you’d set the third corpse alite, it wasn’t just sweat that was making you wet. God, you hated this fixation you had on Dean. Sure, he was attractive. Sure, he was amazing in bed. Sure, he ate pussy like it was going out of style… but, surely you could find someone who could do all three elsewhere? Why did it have to be _him?_ What did he have that other guys didn’t? Despite the fact that he was a hunter, too, knew what it was like to live on the road, knew how to kick ass… _Damn it, Y/N. You need to stop this schoolgirl act. You work alone; you always have, and it’s **always** worked for you. You need to stop getting your panties in a bunch for this guy. Snap out of it—_

_“What do you think you’re doing?”_

Well, that was certainly something to snap you out of it. The sudden voice came out of nowhere from behind you, and you spun around on the balls of your feet to look, expecting it to be a cemetery guard or a passer-by. Instead, you were met by a distorted, pale figure, ripped clothes hanging from his stick-thin figure, with a decaying _dog_ at his side. Shit. It was a spirit. Daddy Peterson had come to play with his pet mutt and had _totally_ caught you off guard because of your _stupid_ dirty mind.

You’d already freed his coffin from the dirt, and all you needed to do was pry open the door and set the corpse alight. But before you could even move, his shrill voice echoed through the cemetery, demanding, “ _I said, **what** are you **doing**?!”_

“Killing you, dickwad.”

You moved quickly, grabbing your crowbar to pull the door off the coffin and throw it aside. But before you could even grab your matches, you hear a commanding whistle, before the order, _‘sick ‘em’_ was directed towards you. Suddenly, the obedient hound at the spirit’s side sprung into aggressive mode, growling, baring teeth and starting to run at you from the coffin. You half expected it to go right through you when it pounced, but suddenly you were pinned against the bones of Hendrick Peterson, while his corpse watched on in amusement as his obedient mutt started to rip into you. This wasn’t planned. You didn’t expect the _dog_ to be a spirit. You just thought it would be the family you’d have to deal with. Looks like ol’ Daddykins must have been the strongest out of the lot, and his dog was bound to him.

You tried to reach out of the coffin for your shot gun, but all you managed to grab was the matches. You panicked, trying to desperately find something that was binding the dog to the corpses, and to your relief you noticed a little box sitting at the bottom of the main coffin, labelled ‘Duke’.

You tried to push past the dog, who was ripping and biting into you wherever it could, causing some _serious_ damage to your side. But you couldn’t give up, you _needed_ to get out of here. This wasn’t how you were meant to die, and you’d be super pissed if a frickin’ _ghost dog_ was the cause of your demise.

You grabbed the box and smashed it open, only to reveal a leather collar which dropped out of it. You picked it up and quickly set it alight, causing the hound to whimper as it burst into flames above you. You took a second to breathe, compose yourself, before pulling yourself back up onto your feet. Quickly, you pulled yourself out of the grave and grabbed the salt and gasoline.

 _“You dirty little tramp! How **dare** you kill my hound!” _the spirit of Hendrick howled as it charged for you, but you quickly dodged him and managed to pour the gas and salt onto his bones, sparking the matches and throwing the box into the grave as fast as you could. The spirit stopped in his tracks, overcome with flames and ash as he disintegrated in front of you, and it was only then that you allowed yourself to relax.

You suddenly noticed the burning pain on your side as your breathing began to stabilise. You held your side, trying to ease any discomfort and stop the bleeding as you packed your stuff back into your duffel bag and left, leaving the graves unfilled since you physically couldn’t bring yourself to refill them.

You chucked your duffel into the back of your truck and headed to your motel. You were limping as you unlocked your door, practically falling into it and dumping your stuff at the door, kicking the door shut with a back foot. You’d taken a few beatings throughout your life as a hunter, but you’d _never_ experienced this sort of pain before. That fucking mutt certainly packed a punch, and as you pulled your shirt over your head to reveal the damage, you had to admit you were a little worried at the sight of your wounds.

Large lashings from sharpened claws and chunks out of your side from ferocious bites; you weren’t exactly sure how you were going to patch yourself up. But hospitals weren’t an option, not with the little budget or reputation you had, so you just had to suck it up and figure out a way to not die.

It wasn’t easy, but a couple hours later and you had cleaned, stitched and dressed any wounds you could, followed by self-medicating with some _strong_ painkillers, antibiotics and a fifth of whisky to knock you into a well-needed slumber. And of course, your dreams were filled by the one and only, Dean Winchester, the man you thought about so often nowadays that it nearly got you killed by a fucking ghost dog.

**  
Dean’s POV**

Dean stumbled into the motel room at around 4am; drunk, noisy and with the biggest shit eating grin on his lips. Of course, this woke Sam up to great dismay, the groggy younger brother peaking out from the covers to see his older sibling kicking his boots off his feet and launching them across the motel room, landing with an obnoxious _thud_.

“Dean,” Sam croaked, his voice groggy from the little sleep he’d just been pulled out of, glancing over at the time on his phone. “It’s 4am, dude. Can you keep it down?”

“I did it, Sammy. I banged a hot chick. Was _totally_ awesome.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Congratulations. Now, can I go back to sleep?”

“She was _blonde_ , she had the _biggest_ pair of tits ever and _loved_ to take it up the—”

“Dean!” Sam snapped, cutting his brother off before he heard _too_ much information that would probably scar him for life. “I don’t care, dude. Good for you. You got laid. Now, go to _sleep_. We’re on the road at 8.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother, who turned away from Dean once again and covered his head with his pillow, trying to drown out any more noise his drunkard of a brother would make. Dean sat there, pissed off and frustrated. He wanted to tell Sammy that he’d managed to do it. Sleep with someone else, have attractions to someone other than _you_.

Except, that was a lie.

He had full intentions to do it when he left the motel at about 9pm the previous night. Find the hottest chick in the nearest bar, seduce her, fuck her, then brag about it. But… when it actually came to fucking her, well… he just couldn’t do it. She wasn’t hot enough, didn’t say his name like _you_ did, that sent a tingle down his spine right to his dick. He barely even got hard for this chick, if at all. He just… couldn’t. And that pissed him off more than he could admit. So, he would deny it, make up this magnificent ploy that would prove to Sam that he wasn’t so infatuated by you and that he had moved on.

_Yeah, Dean. Well done. That totally worked a charm._

He sighed as his back hit the mattress, not even bothering to remove his clothes or get under the sheets before he fell into a drunken sleep, the image of your gorgeous eyes the last thing he pictured before he drifted into sleep, and first thing he saw as he entered his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! i'm certainly enjoying writing it!
> 
> much love <3
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	5. What Happens in Vegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BUCKLE UP, Y'ALL. IT'S ABOUT TO GET INTENSE.
> 
> THIS HERE CHAPTER IS NEARLY 6K WORDS LONG AND IT IS FULL OF DELICIOUS SMUT AND DISGUSTING CUTSIE SHIT
> 
> GET READY FOR A WILD, DRUNKEN RIDE.

** Dean’s POV **

Dean woke up in a similar predicament as he did every morning; cock as hard as a brick and precum dribbling from the tip, begging for relief. He wasn’t a fan of this whole charade. Waking up every morning, needing to jack off, only to work a case that he couldn’t focus on because he was so distracted by the thought of _you_. This infatuation wasn’t doing him any favours and was beginning to grate on his last nerve. So, he decided to make a call.

“Bobby, hey,” Dean started, “I need you to do me a favour.”

“Hello to you, Dean. And what can I do for you at this unholy hour?”

Dean had to admit, it was a little early, barely past 6am when he decided to pick up the phone to call Bobby. “Sorry. Didn’t realise the time. Listen, I was wondering… you know a hunter called Y/N, right? She mentioned you give her cases occasionally. I was just wondering; do you know what her next case is? Or is she on one now?”

“Dean… please don’t tell me you’ve got a schoolgirl crush on this girl. She’s one of my best hunters – don’t need you throwing her off her—”

“—Bobby, hey. Please. I’ve just got something of hers that I need to give back.” Well, that was a lie, but Bobby didn’t need to know that. “Just tell me where she is?”

A sigh came over the receiver as Dean heard Bobby rustling through papers. “Nevada. Vegas. Last I heard, she was on the trail of a possible Rougarou.”

“Vegas. Thanks, Bobby.”

“Listen, Dean. No funny business, ya hear me?”

“I get it, Bobby. Who do you think I am?”

“You’re Dean friggin’ Winchester, that’s who. Damn trouble.”

Dean simply laughed before hanging up the phone. It was just then that Sam entered the room through the front door, running gear on, breathing heavily as he instantly grabbed his water bottle to take a drink as he started to recover from his morning exercise.

“Got a case, Sammy. We’re going to Las Vegas.”

**  
Reader’s POV **

You’d been following the case of a potential Rougarou for a few days now. It started with multiple ‘animal-like’ attacks being reported in the local papers, except it was _rare_ for there to be _any_ wildlife in the middle of a bustling tourist city like Las Vegas. Most of the wildlife was in the desert and even then, it was mainly reptiles, small mammals or birds – totally incapable of causing a ‘cougar-like attack’ like it stated in the reports. It was definitely a case.

You initially thought it was a werewolf case, but the cycles were all wrong and even if it was a pureblood, you doubted they would live in somewhere as busy as Vegas, where they could easily be spotted. No, it was something more subtle. Someone who could blend in easily. That’s when you caught sight of him – a well-known casino CEO, Johnny Vincent, still retaining his, slightly distorted, human form, munching on the corpse of some unsuspecting victim, quickly scattering and disappearing into the night when he was spotted.

You contacted his business the morning after, asking specifically for Mr. Vincent, but he was apparently ‘off work with the flu’ that morning. You figured he would go into hiding, what with his face looking like _that_ , and so you decided to find his address and scope it out.

Although, someone seemed to beat you to it.

The moment you saw the Impala parked outside Johnny Vincent’s house, your stomach sank. _What the fuck are **they** doing here?_ you asked yourself, trying to dip below your steering wheel before they could see you. It was too late. You nearly jumped out of your seat, bashing your head against the glove compartment when someone banged on your window.

You sat up, rubbing your head, as you saw him. You seemed to forget how to breathe at the sight of Dean, grinning ear to ear, at the driver’s side window. You rolled it down.

“Dean?” you questioned. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“On a Rougarou hunt, just like you, sweetheart. We must have the same eye for cases.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. This can’t be right. He and Sam can’t have just _miraculously_ started working the same case as you. There were _so_ many cases across the country on a daily basis. Something was up.

Dean noticed the look on your face and shot you a faux pout. “What, didn’t you miss me, sweetheart?”

“I… uh, I’m just a little surprised to see you again so soon, Dean.”

“Yeah, what’s it been? Like two, three weeks?”

“Something like that.”

You switched your truck engine off and got out of the car. You were wearing a simple pair of black jeans, combat boots with a tank top and flannel. You were ready to kill this thing. But now… boy, were you thrown off your game.

“Johnny Vincent, right?” Dean asked as he watched you rummage through the duffel bag in your back seat.

“What? Oh, yeah. Seemed to go wild after his thirtieth birthday last week. I found him eating someone the other night, and there’s been reports of more vics since he turned.”

“Yeah, Sam and I, we’ve been trailing him for a couple of days. Surprised we didn’t run into you sooner.”

You looked at Dean with suspicious eyes again. Something didn’t feel right in your gut. Like this was all planned out; a trick to find you and see you again. But, you had no proof, and for now you had to give Dean the benefit of the doubt and continue the case.

You pulled out a home-made flame thrower from your duffel, grabbing a lighter to go with it and a gun, too, just to be on the safe side. After shoving the duffel back into your truck, you walked with Dean to the Impala, where you greeted Sam again, who was holding both his and Dean’s own version of a flame thrower.

“Let’s kill this sonofabitch, shall we?” Dean spoke, leading the way to the Vincent residence.

It didn’t take long to find him. He was caught with his pants down; head buried in a half-eaten victim, blood covering his wrinkly, distorted face. It was probably a little over the top that all three of you turned your flames on at the one guy, but it got the job done quick and easy. For once.

“Glad that’s over with,” you said as you walked back out to your truck. “Well, Dean. It was nice seeing you again.”

“Wait, you’re not gonna stay and celebrate with Sammy and me? Come on, Y/N, we’re in Vegas, for Christ’s sake! Live a little.”

You had to admit, working a job in such an exciting place had definitely enticed you to stay a little longer after the case was done, and you also couldn’t deny that Dean, with those big green eyes of his and those fantastic shoulders, was hard to say no to.

With a sigh, you turned to Dean. “You’re trouble, Dean. And you know it. But… I guess I probably won’t get another chance to come back here… and I _guess_ we should celebrate such a painless case. So… fine. But _no_ funny business, ya hear me?” You poked his broad chest playfully, only invoking a smirk from Dean in response.

“I ain’t promising nothin’ sweetheart.”

You followed the Impala into the strip of Las Vegas. It was packed, limos and fancy cars littering the road and tourists overcrowding up the sidewalk. You couldn’t help but get a little excited about the whole thing. You found a relatively cheap hotel on the strip – Dean’s idea to, for once, stay in somewhere a little fancier than a crappy 2-star motel – and dropped your stuff off in your room, which was directly opposite the boys. You had to admit, even though it was the cheapest room on the strip, it was _far_ better than you’d been used to. Huge bed, fantastic view of the casinos, and even a _robe_ that you could wear for the night (but let’s face it, you had every intention of stealing it once you were done).

You took a quick shower and changed into something a little more fitting for the night’s festivities: the one outfit you’d never had a chance to wear because, well, you couldn’t exactly hunt in a dress – _especially_ one this skimpy.

You were a little insecure about the lack of coverage [the dress](https://us02-imgcdn.ymcart.com/30711/2019/04/26/a/b/ab13dd0f4e7b6d19.jpg?x-oss-process=image/quality,Q_90/auto-orient,1/resize,m_lfit,w_1000,h_1000) gave you, but you knew you would never get a chance to wear it again, and so you ignored any doubt you had about the outfit and finished off the look with a pair of stilettos, the only pair of heels you carried around with you and the ones you’d been wearing the first night you met Dean. Your hair was curled, your makeup smoky, your dress hugged every inch of your curves yet hid all your scars, and your heels made your legs and ass look _fantastic_. You were ready.

You’d agreed to meet the boys in the hotel casino once you were ready, and you knew making the effort to dress up had all been worth it when they finally saw you. Sam’s jaw _dropped_ , swallowing down as he tried to conjure up a comprehensible sentence when you approached them. Dean’s eyes were _glued_ on you, bulging as they traced your body and took in every inch of you from head to toe, pulling his jacket down a little as if he was hiding a hard-on. Good. That’s the _very_ reaction you wanted from him.

**  
Dean’s POV **

Holy shit. _Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit._ You looked… Dean never expected you to look… like _that_. Like a _literal_ Goddess. Sexy from head to toe. Eliciting the hardest boner to hide right in the middle of the hotel’s casino. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Couldn’t utter a word. Couldn’t even form a cohesive sentence in his _mind_ let alone fathom one to say aloud. He was glad Sam finally broke the silence, because he was fucking useless at that point.

“Wow, Y/N,” he started, clearing his throat so he didn’t sound so croaky, “you look fantastic. Just… wow. I feel a little underdressed now.” Both Dean and Sam hadn’t bothered to change, remaining in their plaid shirts and jeans with roughed up everyday boots on. Dean suddenly wished he’d bothered to make an effort, so you could feel proud to be on his arm that night, which was his full intention now he’d seen you – he wasn’t going to let _anyone_ else get hold of you but _him_.

“Thank you, Sam,” you said, before your eyes met Dean’s and he swallowed hard, mind still blanking.

“Yeah,” Dean finally spoke, clearing his throat awkwardly, a few times, before he continued, “you… wow. Yeah.”

You just laughed, knowing full well what Dean thought just by the way he looked at you. You stepped in between Dean and Sam and linked your arms with theirs. “Shall we?” you said, before guiding them out of the hotel and towards some of the fancier casinos.

**  
Reader’s POV **

You were hammered by 10pm. Barely able to string words together, bursting out in obnoxious laughter when you failed to talk properly, and clinging onto Dean the whole night – although that was mainly due to the fact you couldn’t walk alone anymore, especially in your heels which now hurt your feet with every step. You refused to take them off, though. This was the only night you’d get to wear them in a while other than for work and you were _determined_ to maintain this hot-ass look for the remainder of the night.

“We should… we should go… to a s-strip club! There’s _so_ many here,” you suggested after getting kicked out of the last casino you were in.

“What a _great_ idea. Let’s do it. We passed one… down there. Look! Naked woman sign!” Dean pointed down the street to the illuminated silhouette of a naked dancer on the neon sign hanging above a club.

“Aaand, that’s my cue to go, I think,” Sam spoke as he let out a chuckle at the two of you. “Have a good night, guys. Don’t drink anymore, alright?”

With that, you and Dean slurred your goodbyes to Sam before he vanished into the crowds of people, heading back to the hotel. Dean started to lead you by the arm towards the strip club, and to your surprise the two of you were _actually_ allowed in, despite how little you could cohesively talk.

The music was blaring, and you were instantly met with half-naked girls handing you shots of _something_ – you couldn’t tell what you were drinking anymore since your body had numbed to any taste on your tongue. You didn’t even flinch when you both shot it back, as if it were water. You lead Dean to one of the viewing booths by the main stage, pulling your seat close to his as you sat down, wanting to be as near him as possible. Honestly, you were ecstatic that Sam had decided to call it a night, loving the fact that it was just you and Dean, alone at last. You’d been _all_ over him the whole night, pressing up against him as you took to the dance-floor of different nightclubs, purposely bending over in front of him at casinos as you placed a bet on black. You could tell you were driving him nuts, and you _loved_ what you did to him. But he was also doing the same back.

Pressing his semi-hard cock to your ass as you danced, gripping onto your hips possessively as he watched you place your bets. It was a two-way street, leading to only one destination, and that was your bed, with Dean, naked. But… before that could happen, you would relish the night and what more Las Vegas offer you.

You watched the dancers as they flashed their gorgeous bodies at their paying audience, throwing them a few dollar bills which you could most definitely not afford to do – but hey, you loved the experience. Whenever you looked at Dean, he wasn’t watching the dancers; he was always watching you, and you loved that in a room of extremely attractive women, all he could look at was you.

You smirked at him as you spotted him watching you, and you leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Like what you see, sweetie?” as your hand simultaneously ran up his inner thigh.

He let out a low growl, teeth grazing his bottom lip as he watched you with hungry eyes. “Oh, Y/N, you have _no_ idea.”

With that, he leaned in and captured your lips with his and you couldn’t help but moan against his soft, plump lips. Your hand reached up to tangle in his hair and you could feel the growl vibrate against your lips. God, he was so hot, and you wanted nothing but to take him right there, in the middle of the strip club, but you knew you had to contain yourself.

Except, Dean had other ideas. He took a handful of your hair, jutting your head to the side to expose your neck, dipping in to press messy kisses up your skin, sending shivers through your whole body and prickling your skin with goose bumps. You hissed as you suddenly felt the sharp feeling of teeth on your sensitive skin, groaning as you felt Dean intentionally biting and sucking on the one particular spot, before pulling back and examining his work.

He smirked, before meeting your gaze. “Mine.”

The notion alone was enough to soak your panties, but Dean’s possessive comment made you practically lunge onto his lap and straddle him, colliding your lips with his and messily kissing him, needy and desperate to feel more of him. Between kisses, you managed to mumble the words, “Take me home, Dean.”

That was all he needed to hear. Quickly standing up and scooping you up with him, he held you up as he manoeuvred his way out of the strip-club, both of you oblivious to the fact that the whole strip club had been watching you from the moment you’d pounced on Dean, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was each other and giving into what the two of you had been fixated on ever since you last saw one another.

Dean set you down once you got out of the club to try and speed things up, dominantly marching you back towards your hotel, although occasionally pressing you up against the closest wall and ravishing you with frantic, passionate kisses, before pulling you back onto the sidewalk until you finally reached the familiar hotel. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another, taking every opportunity to kiss, touch, _feel_ each other, regardless of who was around, even to the point where you were practically dry humping one another in the elevator as people came and went, making for some _very_ uncomfortable guests. You still didn’t care. All you wanted at that point was to feel Dean inside of you.

Finally, the elevator doors opened at your floor and Dean pulled you to your door. You’d strategically stashed your hotel card in the side of your bra for convenience sake, so making it into the hotel only took a few seconds, but as soon as you got through that door, you were instantly shoved against the wall and Dean’s lips pressed to yours, hungrily pulling your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking it before the door had even clicked shut.

His hands worked quickly and masterfully when he reached around to unzip your dress, pulling it down and allowing it to pool at your ankles, only disconnecting the kiss to pull back and look at you now clad in only silk, black underwear and your stilettos. He growled hungrily, leaning back in to kiss you, until he started walking his lips down your neck, wincing a little as he purposely sucked on your prominent hickey, before descending to your collar bone, down your chest bone and to your cleavage. You reached behind you to unclasp it, freeing your breasts from their restraints, only to be captured by Dean’s mouth, sucking on one of your sensitive nipples and eliciting a loud moan from you.

He switched his attention to your other breast, sucking, nibbling, flicking his tongue over your nipple frantically, causing your hips to jut towards him as it sent shivers all through your body, pooling in your core and making a prominent puddle in your panties. He grew impatient, needing to taste more of you, so he worked his mouth down your abdomen, nipping and sucking your skin and leaving small hickeys in a trail to your crotch.

He was now on his knees in front of you, and you watched him as he looked up at you with a smirk, lust filling his eyes as he slipped his fingers under the rim of your panties and slowly, teasingly started to pull them down, until they fell to your ankles and you were able to kick them away. Now it was just you, bare and exposed in front of Dean, the only piece of clothing on you being just your stilettos, which made you feel _especially_ sexy in that moment.

Dean trailed delicate fingers up your inner thigh, forcing a tremble from you, slowly reaching your core and tracing your lips with his fingertips, enjoying the smoothness of your skin. He slowly ran his fingertips down your lips, before dipping his fingers in between them, smirking at the sudden wetness coating his fingers, running them up and down your slit before stopping at your clit. You moaned, leaning into his touch, but he halted all movement at that point.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” he asked, looking up with those fantastic emerald eyes.

You nod submissively, biting your lip. “Yes. Yes, Dean. I missed you so much. I’ve wanted you so bad, baby.”

He perked up his brows curiously. “Oh, is that right? Been missing these fingers, hm? How they make you cum _so_ easily? Or how about this tongue?” Dean dipped his head in, sticking his tongue out as if he was about to lick your glistening pussy, but stopped before he even touched you, eyes stuck on yours. You whimpered, your cunt _aching_ for that touch. “Hm… well, you have me tonight, sweetheart. But you can only get what you want if you’re a good girl, is that understood?”

Fuck. Dean really knew how to take control in the bedroom, turning you into a whimpering, begging, submissive mess. And you _loved_ it. It was what had you so fixated on him; the way he could command you without question, have you crawling back for more when he had you under his control. The total opposite of what you were like in your everyday life. It was like he had cast a spell that you were unable to break free from until he’d had his way with you.

“Is that understood?” Dean repeated, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Yes. Yes, Dean. I understand.”

“Yes… _sir._ ”

Oh, _fuck._

“Y-yes… sir,” you repeated obediently, desperate for his fingers to regain any form of motion as they rested stubbornly on your clit.

Dean smirked. “Good girl.”

And so they did, slowly at first, starting to circle the area, rolling your clit anticlockwise and forcing a moan to escape your lips as your head lulled back against the wall, your hips rocking against his fingers. He’d sobered you up significantly, but the alcohol still remaining in your system only heightened your senses and every move he made sent sparks through your body. You were moaning, grabbing onto Dean’s hair desperately, rocking your hips at him with every movement. You had needed this for so long, and you were _so_ glad it was finally happening again.

Without warning, Dean moved his fingers from your clit and slipped them right inside of you, two and then three, since you were wet enough, and replaced his fingers with his mouth on your clit seamlessly. You let out another moan, your hands grasping his hair tightly and holding him against you as you held your hips towards him. You lifted one of your legs to rest it over his shoulder, which only made him moan into you, the vibrations driving you crazy and adding to your pleasure. You were so close, so on the edge that you knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. And yet, you still paused to ask, “S-sir… can I cum? I’m s-so close. Fuck.”

You felt the smirk against you. “Good girl,” he praised, speaking against your clit, “you may cum.”

You sighed with relief and allowed yourself to simply sit back and enjoy the ride, your orgasm hitting within seconds of Dean regaining speed with his tongue on your clit and pumping his fingers against your g-spot with great precision and force. Your climax squeezed and clenched his fingers, pulsing your juices down his hand and coating his fingers. Dean groaned as he rode your high out, allowing you to come down slowly, before finally pulling away and standing up once you had set your leg down from his shoulder. Your chest heaved, trying to come down from the high, but Dean wasn’t going to let you relax for even a minute, quickly shoving his glistening fingers in your mouth so you could taste the mess you’d made for him.

“Dirty, dirty little whore,” he spoke as he watched you obediently lick and suck his fingers clean. “Get on the bed. _Now.”_

You didn’t hesitate, only nodded and followed his instructions by walking quickly to the bed and climbing onto it. You sat on your knees as you watched Dean strip down until he was naked, his bare cock springing free from his boxers and you licked your lips at the sight of precum dribbling down the head.

“On your knees. Show me that perfect ass of yours.”

You nodded again and turned around, positioning yourself on all fours in front of him, and you felt him delve his fingers inside of you once more, wetting them enough so he could pull them out and use the coating as a lubricant to his cock. _God, he’s so fucking hot_ , you thought, fully ready to take anything he was about to give.

You felt him position the tip of his cock at your entrance, feeling it pressing in, inch by inch, his hands grabbing your hips before he fully slammed his length inside of you. You let out a pleasured whine, grabbing onto the covers in front of you for some sort of support, but Dean wasn’t having that.

“Hands,” he ordered, “give me them.”

Again, obeying his every command, you balanced yourself as you reached back and allowed Dean to take hold of your wrists, pressing them back against your tailbone as he continued to fuck you silly. You moaned, the slight angle change forcing his cock to drive straight against your g-spot with every thrust, making you cry out in complete ecstasy with every pump of his hips.

“You have _no_ idea what you’ve done to me since we met, Y/N,” Dean started, words slightly jagged from his laboured breathing and consistent thrusts. “Making me wake up with a hard cock every morning. Appearing in my dreams every night. Distracting me on every case. But I blame this fantastic cunt of yours, y’know? So, _so_ good.”

You moaned, loving the words Dean was admitting to you, glad it wasn’t just a one-way thing. “Mmm… if you enjoy my pussy so much, wait ‘til you get a load of this ass.”

You hadn’t expected those words to escape your lips, but you were _so_ horny and _so_ eager to please Dean that they just did. You’d done anal before, but not for a long time and not with someone as _big_ as Dean, and so you were suddenly glad you were intoxicated.

“Oh, is that right, you dirty little bitch?” You could hear the smirk in Dean’s voice as he manoeuvred each of your hands to spread your ass cheeks right in front of him. He removed his length from your pussy, only to repeat the method of gathering the dripping juices from inside of you to lubricate your ass. He started slow, pressing one finger inside your back entrance, then two, then three when you were ready. It was a dull pain to start with, but once you got past the discomfort you started to enjoy the feeling of him in your ass. Then, once he felt you were ready, he pressed his cock to the significantly tighter entrance, pushing his wet tip in until your asshole swallowed up his length inch by inch, Dean letting a moan out unlike anything you’d ever heard. Pure ecstasy in his tone, and that alone allowed you to relax and enjoy it.

He allowed you to adjust slowly, moving his hips back and forth, speeding up only when he could feel you were ready, and before you knew it he was building up a steady rhythm. You let out moan after moan, uttering his name through gritted teeth as you reached down to pleasure your clit, the new type of stimulation causing you pleasure unlike anything you’d ever felt.

Suddenly, you felt Dean reach between you, pushing his fingers into your cunt and eliciting another loud moan from you, the pleasure of having all of your holes filled and every sweet spot stimulated making your orgasm surface faster than you anticipated. “Fuck, Dean. I wanna cum. I wanna cum so hard for you, baby. Please… please, can I cum, sir?”

“You better fucking cum for me, sweetheart. Lemme feel it.”

Again, it didn’t take long for you to explode beneath Dean, your cunt clenching around his fingers, the contractions strong enough to be felt by Dean’s cock in your ass, causing him to let out a growl. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, too.”

“Do it. Cum for me, Dean. I wanna feel you cum inside me.”

You felt his hard cock spurt a hot load inside of you after a few final thrusts and you moaned, enjoying the unusual feeling it brought. The room fell silent for a few seconds, your heavy breathing the only thing to be heard as Dean slowly pulled himself out of you and slumped down onto the bed by your side. You allowed yourself to roll over and do the same, your chest rising and falling heavily as you tried to catch your breath.

It was quiet for a few more moments before you broke the silence. “Well… that was… different.”

Dean chuckled. “You’re tellin’ me.”

You turned to look over at Dean, his stunning emerald eyes meeting yours soon after. “You’re just… wow.”

“Wow?” Dean questioned, raising a curious brow. “That’s you. Super wow.”

You both giggled with one another, your highs now settling down, leaving you with the intoxication still prominent in your system now that you weren’t so overcome with lust. “Get me a towel?” you asked.

“I could… or you could jump in the shower with me.”

You grinned at him, before hopping off the bed to follow him to the bathroom after finally kicking off your heels. It was huge, about the size of your usual motel rooms, and the sight of a shower with multiple heads coming from all angles made you feel like you’d just entered Heaven.

Dean tested the water and gave you a nod when it was warm enough to step under. The water hitting you at different angles was amazing, soothing your skin and washing off the sweat and grime from the day. As you raised your arms above your head to work the water through your hair, you felt Dean’s strong arms wrap around you from behind. You hummed in delight, leaning into his embrace.

“Hmm… this is nice,” you mused, looking over your shoulder at Dean.

“You’re nice,” Dean replied, the slur between his words telling you he was still a little wasted, which meant you could probably say whatever you wanted to him right now and totally get away with it.

“Not as nice as you,” you said as you turned around to face him, reaching up to poke his nose playfully. “Or as handsome.”

Dean pulled you in, so your torsos rested flush against one another and you locked gazes with each other. “Shh. We both know that you’re the handsome one here. Well… beautiful. So beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” He reached up to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. The motion alone, paired with his words, sent butterflies to your stomach.

“No, no. That’s _you_. Such a beautiful creature, with those stunning eyes and amazing body… and the _best_ dick I’ve ever had. Ever.”

God, sober you would want to _kill_ you right now, but sober you wasn’t here right now, and you allowed yourself to be as sappy as you wished at that moment. It was nice to be intimate with someone, even if it was alcohol induced.

Dean didn’t reply, only dipped his head down and captured your lips. It wasn’t like the kisses you’d had before with him, not desperate or needy or lust-fuelled. It was soft, delicate, passionate. Slow and tender. Meaningful. And you loved every minute of it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and allowing yourself to enjoy the sentiment.

But, in true Dean fashion, the moment escalated quickly when you felt his erection pressing against your stomach. And in true, well, _you_ fashion, you smirked at the feeling of it, pulling Dean with you as you backed up against the tiles of the shower. He picked you up with ease, your legs wrapping seamlessly around his waist, and quickly pressed his cock to the entrance of your pussy as your back rested against the wall. You were thankful that you were in the shower and Dean had managed to somewhat clean himself off from your previous _experimentation_ , and you relaxed into his hold as he began fucking you slow, filling you fully with gentle, meaningful thrusts, so you could feel every inch of him in detail. You let out a flow of moans, the acoustics of the bathroom echoing them around you, but Dean quickly silenced them with another tender kiss.

You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach at that point. Nobody had ever fucked you like this. It was always fast, rough, _meaningless_. But this… there was emotion and thought behind it. You weren’t just an object to use as a method of cumming. Although, you knew deep down Dean had never treated you like that, nor had he made you feel that way either.

You embraced Dean tightly, refusing to let his lips go and keeping them against yours until you could feel him speeding up, needy and with purpose, letting you know he was close. “Cum… cum for me, baby. I want to feel it,” you instructed between short pecks of your lips.

Dean grunted as he pumped his hips a few more times before you felt the familiar feeling pooling inside of you. You smiled against his lips, before finally pulling away and locking eyes with him. He had a look in his eyes that was… different. Nobody had ever looked at you like that. And you were certain if you were sober it would scare you to death and make you run for the hills. But here you were, embracing the moment, allowing Dean to look at you like that and probably returning a similar gaze.

Dean set you down and gave himself a quick wash before he allowed you time to clean yourself, considering you had to figure out how to get the collection of… ahem, _liquid_ out of your body. But you appreciated that Dean was considerate enough to let you do that in private.

After you were fully cleaned, you dried yourself off with your towel, wrapped your hair in a smaller one and then slipped on one of the robes hanging in the bathroom. Dean was already wearing the second one when you joined him in the bedroom, amusing you that he’d made himself so comfortable in your bed, flicking through the TV channels while he waited for you to reappear. You were still a little drunk, but your exhaustion from the day was finally catching up, and all you wanted to do now was sleep.

As you got into bed, Dean, to your surprise, pulled you into a cuddle as you settled under the covers with him. You weren’t used to this - _cuddling_. Or affection of any kind other than fucking. Yet… here you were again, accepting Dean’s muscular arms as they slipped around your waist and he became your big spoon. Sober you was _absolutely_ going to kill you when you woke up.  
  


* * *

  
You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep exactly, but you woke up at the crack of dawn, as usual. Except, this time, you had _no_ intention of running away. One, because your hangover was incredibly painful and you could barely keep your eyes open; and two, Dean’s arms were unmovable around your waist and you would have hated to disturb him by moving. Plus, you were _extremely_ comfortable in his embrace. So… you did the unthinkable. You allowed yourself to fall back asleep. No running out on Dean this time – you were prepared to deal with the consequences from the night before when you’d had a few more hours of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
> 
> i told you it was was gonna be intense. i had SO much fun writing this drunken mess. finally, the reader has decided to give dean what he wants - a morning where he can wake up beside her! ahhhhhhh so disgustingly cute.
> 
> but how long will that last? ;)
> 
> thank you so much for the support on this series so far! i'm having a blast writing it! lemme know what you thought of this one - i'm excited to hear your thoughts!
> 
> much love <3  
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	6. Trust No One but Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! shorter chapter today, but still lots of drama!
> 
> thank you to everyone who's read this far and supported the series! every bit of feedback is so appreciated and I love every one of you!
> 
> enjoy!

** Dean’s POV **

He couldn’t believe his eyes when he woke up. It was about 10am, the sun was shining through the window (since you hadn’t bothered to close the curtains the night before) and was illuminating the most beautiful sight in the world. You. You were still there, next to him, bundled up under the covers and sleeping so soundly. The most stunning thing he’d ever seen.

He watched you sleep for what felt like forever before you started to stir and wake up. You were so adorable with your sleepy eyes and puffy cheeks. Your hair was all messed up from the way you’d been sleeping, and your eyes were a little dark from lack of sleep and the hangover you inevitably had, and yet Dean still couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You were so perfect.

“I hope you haven’t been watching me sleep all morning, creep,” you muttered, your voice groggy and scratchy. Dean simply laughed, reaching over to press a gentle palm on the side of your cheek and leaning in to peck your forehead.

“Not _all_ morning… I only just woke up myself. Honestly… didn’t expect you to still be here.”

“Expect the unexpected, Dean. That’s the number one rule when you’re dealing with me.”

Again, Dean simply laughed. You’d hadn’t even opened your eyes yet and you were still finding ways to amuse him. His heart fluttered at that thought alone. _Jesus, Dean. You got it **bad** , dude._

“You want some breakfast?”

“Mmm… breakfast…”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dean responded with a chuckle, gently pulling his arm from out under you and shaking the feeling back into it as he climbed out of bed to find some clothes. After quickly getting dressed, he told you he would be back as soon as he could. You simply mumbled something sleepily at him and dozed off back asleep as soon you heard the door close.

**  
Reader's POV **

You didn’t sleep for long, only drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the time Dean was gone. You finally came around when the sound of your phone made you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Fuck me,” you hissed to yourself as you sat up and reached over to the bedside table to pick up the buzzing device.

“Hello?” you spoke into the receiver, sounding _incredibly_ rough and obviously hungover.

“Mornin’, princess. Did I wake you from your everlasting slumber?”

Your eyes narrowed at the familiar teasing tones of Bobby Singer. “Shut up, Bobby.”

“So, good night?”

“I suppose.”

“So, Dean managed to find you then?”

Your stomach _sank_ at Bobby’s words. You knew it. You knew this wasn’t a coincidence, the Winchesters suddenly turning up, working the _same_ case you were, in the _same_ state, in the _same_ city out of the whole country. It was all a set up. Your gut feeling was right from the fucking start and yet you’d just _let_ it fucking happen. This was all Dean’s ploy to sleep with you again and that thought alone made your _blood_ boil.

You didn’t even bother to answer Bobby. You hung up and threw your phone across the bed, just as the hotel room door swung open and the _dick_ himself waltzed right on in. He had a happy-ass grin on his face, saying something _stupid_ in attempts to be charming, but that grin dropped right off his face as soon as he saw the pure _rage_ in yours.

“Y/N? You oka—”

“—No, I’m not fucking okay, Dean. You know why? Because you set this whole goddamned thing up. Didn’t you? _Didn’t you?!_ You and Bobby. You _purposely_ asked him where I was. You _purposely_ found me so you could get into my fucking pants again. And _don’t_ try and fucking lie to me, Dean, because I know by your fucking face that you’ve been caught at your own fucking game.”

As you spat your venom at Dean, you also pulled yourself out of bed and started rustling through your duffel bag for a clean set of clothes, simultaneously shoving the clothes from last night into it as you did. You pulled on a scruffy pair of sweatpants and an old band t-shirt, shoving the easiest pair of shoes you had on – a pair of slip-on sneakers – and zipping your duffel shut. It was the quickest you’d ever packed up your stuff and gotten dressed, but you wanted to get away from Dean as soon as you possibly could.

“Y/N, I can explain.”

“Don’t fucking bother, Dean. I know exactly what type of guy you are now. Just desperate for some pussy and that’s all. Don’t give a shit about me or my life. Just want to keep coming back to me because I’m not a basic ass bitch. Fuck you, Dean Winchester. I never want to see you ever, _ever_ again.”

And with that, you grabbed your stuff, threw your duffel over your shoulder and marched right out of the hotel door, purposely slamming it behind you. You passed Sam on the way but only glared at him. He looked instantly concerned but didn’t want to interfere, which was probably the best because you didn’t want to give him an earful when this wasn’t his fight.

You were angry. Beyond angry. You were physically _hot_ with rage. But beyond all that, you were hurt. You’d allowed yourself to get close to Dean, intimate. More than anyone else. He’d saw your vulnerable side. You’d allowed yourself to stay with him into the morning. And for what? Only to be played for a good fuck.

You were done. No more allowing yourself relations with _anyone_. It was strictly business for now on. It was best that way. At least then, you wouldn’t get into situations like these, storming out of a hotel on the verge of tears, running away from the one person you thought you could potentially trust in your life. From now on, it was me, myself and I.  
  
  
 **Dean’s POV**

_Shit._

_What have I done?_

Those were the only thoughts Dean could fathom in the moments after you’d stormed out of the hotel room. He didn’t move from that spot for what felt hours, still holding the warm breakfast burritos he had picked up for you two moments ago. He couldn’t.

It was like he’d just been hit by a bus. He was heartbroken. He was angry. He was distraught. But most of all, he was ashamed. Ashamed that he’d brought all of this on and ruined a perfectly good relationship because of his schoolboy crush and the need to see you again.

He didn’t know what to do with himself.

There was a knock of the door, followed by Sam’s muffled voice asking, “Dean? You okay in there?”

Dean couldn’t answer.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, never mind talk.

“Dean?” Sam asked once more, concerned that you may have harmed his brother.

“I’m fine, Sam,” Dean finally replied, snapping at his brother, as if he had the right to shout at anybody but himself right now.

“We gotta checkout soon. I’ll grab the bags and meet you in the car.”

Dean honestly couldn’t believe what had just happened. He’d quite possibly made the worst mistake of his life, and that was saying a lot considering all the horrible things he’d done in his life. Worse than selling his soul. Worse than torturing in Hell. Worse than killing all the innocent people he had done over the years. You were the only thing he’d had his mind on for _weeks_. You were the only woman he had any form of attraction to. You were the only woman who made him _feel_ how he did when he was around you, and that had never happened before. Not with anybody.

You were the only woman he could truly say he had feelings for.

And he fucking blew it. Blew it so hard that he couldn’t see there being any way of getting you back. He’d betrayed any trust he had built up with you over the time you had spent together, and he knew from experience that trust was the hardest thing to rebuild.

He had truly, _truly_ fucked it up.

He finally managed to pull himself together enough to leave the hotel. He had to check out your room, considering you were long gone before he could tell you to do it on the way out – although he knew you’d probably kill him if he even tried anything like that.

He paid for your room and then headed back to the Impala, throwing Sam the keys because he was in _no_ right state to drive. He blamed it on the hangover when Sam asked, but deep down, his mind was too fractured to focus on anything other than what had just happened.

He pretended to sleep for the whole journey, not even bothering to ask where Sam was driving them to. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. All he cared about was you, and what he could do to get you back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ouch... you thought they could be happy together! think again >:)
> 
> dean super duper fucked up. how will they recover from it? tune in next week to find out! or like, within the next few days cuz i can't stop writing this damn fic. 
> 
> thanks for reading! <3
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	7. Through Devil Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo
> 
> just wanted to say a massive thank you for the support so far! i love reading your comments so much - they give me so much motivation to keep writing and publishing! thank you a million! 
> 
> hope you enjoy this one!

** Reader’s POV **

It had been two weeks since you’d stormed out on Dean, and in those two weeks you hadn’t been yourself. You spent your nights drowning your sorrows in whisky, to the point your stomach hurt on a daily basis and you felt physically sick because of it. Yet, the pain you felt physically was nothing compared to the pain you felt mentally. You hated to admit it, but what Dean had done to you, to betray your trust and manipulate your relationship like that had broken something inside of you, and alcohol seemed to be the only thing that numbed that pain. At least, for a little bit.

You really shouldn’t have continued hunting in this state of mind either, yet here you were, drawing out a Devil’s trap on the ceiling of an abandoned warehouse. The fall off the ladder you were on alone would have probably killed you if you lost your footing even a little bit, but a part of you didn’t really care if that happened at this point. If death came for you now, at least it would end your suffering.

You’d been tracking a particular demon for the past week. A sadistic son of a bitch that liked to jump body to body, self-mutilate the meat-suit in the most horrific of ways, then leave it to rot until someone found it abandoned in a ditch somewhere.

The fucker needed to die, and you were in the mood to kill something that deserved it. Unfortunately, Dean wasn’t an option right now, considering you didn’t even want to be in the same room as him (even if that was to drive a dagger into his heart), so you settled on the demon.

Your plan was to lure it out. The demon, Amel, knew you were hunting her. She’d been leaving you messages at every crime scene, subtle ones that only you would spot. A bloody knife wedged into an apple; a pair of eyes painted in the victim’s blood with the message _‘I’m watching you’_ written underneath it; or another message with taunting words of _‘too late’_ carved into the metal of another victim’s car. She knew you were on to her, so now it was time to face her head on.

You’d dug up a powerful summoning spell after a few nights of researching. You’d heard of people using them before, but usually to summon a dead relative or lover, never to summon a dangerous demon who wanted to kill you. But, it was the only way you could trap her, and so you knew it was worth the risk if it meant others would be saved from her sadistic antics.

You’d set up the spell work, a bowl with a few ingredients mashed together inside of it, and all you needed to do was add a drop of your blood to it and say the spell to make it work. Your hand stung as you drove your knife over it, but the pain was almost refreshing, a change from your usual numbness nowadays. As you spoke the Latin spell aloud, you braced yourself for what was about to happen, knowing full well you had to be on high alert when it came to a demon as dangerous as Amel.

Fortunately, the spell brought the demon right into your Devil’s trap, rendering her useless when she appeared in front of you, instant rage settling on her face as she realised what had just happened to her.

“Y/N,” she hissed, “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Aw, really? ‘cause I really missed you, Amel, and _really_ wanted to see that ugly mug of yours.”

The demon simply laughed, the malicious tone in her chuckle sending chills down your spine. “Cute. But I thought you were enjoying our little arrangement? Like cat and mouse. I kill someone, you chase me, you find my cute little love notes… rinse and repeat. I certainly liked it.”

You laughed, a smirk settling on your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I just wanted to take our relationship to the next level, y’know?”

“Oh, well, in _that_ case, this little situation,” she paused to point up to the Devil’s trap above her, “needs to be fixed. Can’t get close to you if I can’t move, can I?”

Your brows furrowed at her words, a little unsure of what she meant until she started incanting some sort of spell that caused the whole warehouse to shake. You panicked, unsure of what exactly she was trying to do, but you knew she had to be stopped. You ran to your duffel bag a few feet behind you and tried to grab your flask of holy water before she could finish the spell, but before you knew it, she was next to you, her hand outreached towards you and holding your whole body in a powerful stun before you’d even gotten the lid of your flask. Fuck.

“Oh, Y/N. I’m a little offended at your underestimation of me. You thought I was some low level, everyday piece of shit demon? Oh, no no, sweetie. I’ve got power that you wouldn’t believe.” A grin spread across her face as her eyes flickered not the usual black of a typical demon, but a translucent white. Your eyes bulged slightly at the sight, knowing you’d maybe gotten a little over your head with this case.

She simply laughed at your reaction, letting her hold on you go and forcing you down onto your knees in front of her. Your chest heaved as you tried to steady your breath and remain as calm as you possibly could, watching her closely. You’d realised as she walked around you that she’d managed to create a crack up the length of the warehouse, forcing the Devil’s trap open to free herself, and you couldn’t help but feel a little stupid for allowing yourself to get into this mess.

“We’re going to play a little game, Y/N,” Amel started, circling you with great confidence, knowing full well she could kill you with a snap of her fingers. “I’m going to ask you to give me your phone, and we’re going to go through your phone to see what little hunter friends I can bait out to save your pathetic little ass.”

You glared at her, refusing to move a muscle. “Fuck you.”

She laughed again. “Swear at me all you want, hon. I’ll get my way no matter what you say. Now, phone.”

Again, you stayed still, holding your composure and refusing to hand her over the one thing that would put other people at risk.

“Fine, if you’re not wanting to play nice, I’ll guess we’ll do things the hard way.”

With that, she turned her hand into a fist and twisted her wrist in a clockwise motion, causing your whole body to contort in ways you didn’t know possible, forcing a scream to escape your lips as your body doubled over, causing your phone to fall out of your jacket pocket anyway.

“Lovely. See, wasn’t so hard was it?” she beamed, reaching forward to pick your phone up from the floor and open up your contact list. Skimming through it, you tried to remember who you had in there. The benefit of being antisocial meant you didn’t really have a _lot_ of contacts that people could manipulate you with, but the few ones you did have in there were important to you.

The demon’s eyes lit up when she found a particular name on her list. “Now this one is juicy. Bobby Singer… now, I’ve had a few run-ins with that man before. Hmm… I’d love to get some payback on him.”

“No—”

She silenced you with a wave of her hand, forcing you to almost choke on your words as she put an invisible force over your lips to keep you quite as she raised your phone to her ear after calling Bobby’s number.

“Hello, handsome. Remember me? Oh… you don’t? That’s a shame. I thought we had a lot of fun that beautiful night in Florida. Remember… you tortured me, held me down with some _very_ powerful spell work and forced me to tell you all the Devil’s secrets… ah—there it is, you got it, sweetie. Listen… I have something of yours that you may want back. A little hunter by the name of Y/N. Got herself into a bit of pickle trying to summon and kill me… poor baby, didn’t realise who she was messing with.”

If looks could kill, Amel would be a dead puddle on the floor right now. You hated this. You hated that your dumb plan had been totally turned around on you and now Bobby was in danger because of it.

“No, no, she’s fine. Listen – Y/N, sweetie, let Uncle Bobby know you’re okay, would ya?” Amel spoke, clicking her fingers to release the mute from your mouth.

“Bobby, don’t come! Let her kill me. Don’t put yourself in dan—”

She clicked her fingers once more, and again you were forcibly hushed.

“See? As fit as a fiddle. Now, I suspect you’re fully capable of tracking these coordinates, correct? Don’t have me waiting, Bobby. You know how I get when I become impatient.”

And with that, she hung up, quickly throwing your phone on the ground in front of you, turning to you with a shit-eating grin across her face. “And now, we wait.”  
  


** Dean’s POV **

“What do you mean some demon has her? A _what_? What the hell is a Duchess of Hell?” Dean demanded, practically barking into his phone at Bobby’s words. He was the first point of contact once Bobby had finished the phone call with Amel, alerting him of your capture, and Dean had gone into full-blown panic mode.

“Right… right, Bobby. Text me the coordinates and we’ll meet you there.” Dean hung up quickly and sprang into action, grabbing Sam and marching him out of the motel without even bothering to checkout. You were his number one priority and just under a half-day drive away from him. He couldn’t waste any time, not when you were in danger.

On the drive there, Sam tried his best to research anything on the demon they were trying to kill. Duke and Duchesses of Hell were rare, with very few accounts of them ever existing throughout the lore. A rank under Prince and Princess of Hell, they were elite demons, handpicked specifically by Lucifer himself to continue the production of pure-blooded demons while he was gone. Basically, demonic baby-makers – the Adam and Eve of Hell. Still incredibly powerful demons but less heard of because they spent most of their time reproducing in Hell.

“Gross. Incestuous demons… so why is she suddenly around now? And why does she have Y/N?” Dean asked, glancing over at Sam from the wheel.

“No idea. Bobby said he lost contact with her after Vegas and had no idea what she was doing or where she was since then.”

Dean swallowed hard, knowing full well he had been the cause of that. Of course, this was all his fault. Had he not followed your case to Vegas, only to get found out, you would never have stormed out and went MIA, putting yourself in total danger chasing powerful demons with no backup whatsoever. Yet again, this was all on Dean.

And so, he would make it right.

The six-hour drive only took three, the boys pulling up to the warehouse in question to see Bobby already parked up near the door. They weren’t exactly sure what they would find when they entered the warehouse, but they were geared up with everything they had to face whatever would come at them, including the Colt.

But, as they breached the entrance to the warehouse, they were met with… well, nothing, as they finally entered. No army of demons, no Duchess of Hell, just… you. Tied to a chair, looking bloody and beaten, as if you’d gone twelve rounds with a brick. You weren’t conscious when they approached you, but you were definitely still alive, to their relief.

“Y/N, hey,” Dean spoke as he dropped down next to you to start untying you. “It’s Dean. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay?”

Meanwhile, Sam and Bobby continued to stand guard. “Bobby, this isn’t right,” Sam commented, looking around for any clues as to what they were facing. He clocked the shattered Devil’s trap and your duffel bag discarded nearby you, but the lack of any threat around you just didn’t sit right with him.

“I know, kid. Something’s definitely up. I just can’t figure out what.”

You started to stir as Dean got your bindings off your wrists, eyes barely parting as you looked up at him, giving him a small smile as you saw him. “Dean,” you croaked, before choking a little on the dried blood in your throat, spitting some of it out on the ground.

“Shh-shh… it’s okay. You’re safe, alright? We’ll get you out of here.”

Dean helped you up from the chair, wrapping an arm around you to support you as he started to walk you towards the door. “Wait,” you paused, looking back at your duffel, “my stuff. Dean, could you grab it for me?”

Dean nodded, passing you over to Sam, who linked his arm under your shoulders to help you walk. Little did the boys know, though, that the whole thing had been planned out from the moment Amel ended the phone call with Bobby. She beat you silly, until you could barely keep your head up by yourself, before hopping into your body and taking full control of you, forcing you to watch the whole thing through demon eyes.

So as Dean turned his back on you and left his brother vulnerable, Amel took full advantage of this and pulled out the knife she’d been hiding in your jacket pocket, driving it right into Sam’s back, barely missing anything major but causing him to drop to the ground with a pained yell.

“Sam!” Dean exclaimed as he spun round to see his brother collapse, running towards you quickly but instantly being thrown back by Amel’s hand. Bobby, too, had been pushed back, glued to a nearby wall to stop any interference from him.

Your eyes flickered white as Amel showed her true form, a sinister laugh filling the warehouse as her plan played out in front of her eyes. “Y’know, I thought having Bobby Singer coming to rescue this little skank was good, but not only did I get him, I got the _Winchesters_ , too? I hit the jackpot.”

Dean was trying his best to fight Amel’s hold, but he was forced to stay put as he watched the demon manipulate your body. “Get out of her. You got us, you don’t need her any longer.”

Amel chuckled. “Oh, Dean, that’s cute. You really like her, huh? I could see it in your eyes as you were untying her. Pure adoration in those emerald greens. Y’know, she likes you too. I can tell. I can see her memories… damn, boy, you really know how to make a woman scream, huh? She _loves_ the way you take control, hands rough all over her body… mm-mm, this meat-suit is getting wet even thinking about it, and that’s not because of _me_. Oh, no. That’s _all_ Y/N. You _really_ get her going.”

Dean glared at Amel with such rage in his eyes, his fists clenching tightly as he tried to fight every force she had on him. But, he knew he had to do _something_ , anything to distract her long enough for a loophole to appear. “Well, how ‘bout you jump out of her and into your own meat suit and I’ll show you a piece of that action, huh?”

Amel let out yet another chuckle. “Oh, Dean. I’m flattered. But as appealing as that is, I’m sure I’d have a _lot_ more fun in this body. You already know your way round it after all. Plus, it’d be like a threesome. Little ol’ Y/N is still in here, y’know? Kicking and screaming and scratching, _begging_ me to let her go. _Begging_ me not to hurt you, or Sam, or Bobby. But honestly, I’m enjoying it too much to let that happen. Plus, she’s _gorgeous_ , right? Look at these curves, and these _tits_. God, far better than the last meat-suit I had. She was boring and plain. I much more prefer this voluptuous piece of ass.”

Dean continued to fight, but at the corner of his eye, he saw Sam start to stir from his unconscious state. He knew this was their only shot, to keep this piece of shit talking so Sam could ambush her while she was distracted. So, Dean took the bait. “She is pretty hot. Gorgeous, actually. Especially in the morning. Waking up to her… was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Aww, Dean. You’re breaking my heart. It’s a shame that’ll never happen again. Me and her, I got big plans for us. Explore the world, make more beautiful demon babies, and watch them grow old and destroy this horrible world one day at a time.”

“I don’t think so.”

Amel perked a brow up. “Excuse me?”

“I said, I don’t think so.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because you ain’t getting her. _Now, Sammy!”_

Without warning, Amel felt a sharp pain in the back of her thigh, causing her to collapse to the ground with a painful thud, clutching the back of her leg and letting out shrieks of pain. “What the _fuck_ was that?!” she exclaimed, looking back at Dean, who pointed at Sam, who had managed to aim and take fire at Amel with when her attention was focused on Dean. He still held the Colt at her, finger firmly on the trigger.

“You’ve got three to get out of her, or I fire another shot,” Sam warned, fire in his eyes.

“You won’t hurt her. Not for me.”

“Try me.”

There was a pause of silence, Amel trying her best to figure out a way to turn this around on the boys, but that shot had weakened her significantly and she didn’t want to risk another one, knowing full well it would kill her. So, with a loud shriek filling up the whole warehouse, she smoked out, a white cloud heading straight for the ventilation system, causing you to drop in a slump on the ground when Amel had fully left your body.

**  
Reader’s POV **

Possession was a horrible, horrible experience to go through. You’re watching somebody control your body, while they have you locked inside your own head, with a front row seat to the pain they were causing with _your_ hands. You scratched and punched and kicked and _screamed_ from the very moment she had entered your body until the very moment she smoked out. Now you were forced to deal with the brokenness of your body, a hole spurting blood from your left thigh and your face beaten to a pulp. You were surprised you were still alive when she left.

“Y/N!” Dean rushed to your side, instantly shrugging off his jacket to wrap it around your thigh to stop the bleeding, holding your head up and resting it on his lap so you weren’t face down on the concrete floor.

“Are you okay? We gotta get you to a hospital. You and Sam.”

Bobby took the cue, pulling out his cell phone to dial for a couple of ambulances, trying to keep calm as he sat by Sam’s side, the knife still wedged in his back.

“I’m… I’m fine. Thank you, Dean,” you spoke, barely louder than a whisper since that was all you could muster with the little strength you had left.

“Don’t. Save your thank you’s for when you’re better.”

You nodded. You couldn’t remember much after that – everything seemed to fade to black as your body forced you into an unconscious state again, probably from the blood you had lost rapidly from your leg.  
  


* * *

  
You woke up in a hospital ward three days later. Your mouth was dry, your lips chapped, and every inch of your body ached head to toe.

But that was all forgotten when you looked over and saw Dean’s head resting on the foot of your bed, using his arms as a pillow as he snored into them. You wondered how long he had been there, how little sleep he’d probably gotten over the past few days, and part of you didn’t want to wake him up, but he seemed to snap out of it as soon as you shifted even a little bit in bed.

“Hm?” he hummed, head raising as he looked over at you, wiping the drool from the corner of his lip as he did, only fully opening his eyes when he realised you were looking back at him, for the first time in what felt forever since you were brought to the hospital.

“Hey, Dean,” you croaked with a calm smile on your lips, reaching forward to take Dean’s hands. “How long you been here for?”

“Y/N… I’m so glad you’re awake. Uh… a few days. Sam’s in the room next door so I’ve kinda been back and forth.”

“Sam…” The memory hit you. The knife you jammed into his back. The knife that could have killed him had it been a few inches right, hitting his spine and severing any ties to life he had. You paled at the thought of it.

“He’s okay, Y/N. And don’t you dare start to blame yourself for what happened. That bitch Amel… this is all her fault. And we’ll hunt her down and kill her. So help me god, we will.”

You saw the determination and reassurance in Dean, and coupled with the gentle squeeze of your hand, it genuinely calmed you down and shifted some of the blame from your shoulders. Yet, part of you still couldn’t help but feel guilty for all of this. Had you not summoned the demon in the first place, this would have never happened, and nobody would have gotten hurt. It wasn’t something you could easily let go of.

“Listen, Y/N. I know this might not be the best time to say this right now, but I gotta get it off my chest while I have you alone. What happened in Vegas… it never should have. I never should have asked Bobby where you were, I never should have followed you, and I never should have set up the whole thing.”

“Dean, it’s—”

“—No, please. Let me finish. I need to say this,” Dean insisted, holding your hand tight, cupping it with the other one and looking you dead in the eye, holding your gaze with those gorgeous greens. “I just… the past few months, ever since I met you in that bar, you’ve all I’ve been thinking about. You will _not_ leave me alone, not even for a minute. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t hunt without you playing on my mind, and… I just had to see you, and I was willing to risk you finding out about me setting up the whole thing if it meant I could spend another night with you. And it was the best night I’ve had for a long time, if ever. Especially when you were there when I woke up. You were… so gorgeous, so peaceful. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

You’d heard Dean say this to Amel when she was inside of you, but you thought it was just something he was saying to distract her. Hearing him say it now, just to you and you alone, was enough to make you forget everything that had happened. Staying angry at someone who genuinely cared about you wasn’t worth it. It was something you needed to cherish, considering it had rarely happened before in your life, especially after that person had just risked their life to save yours.

“I understand if you’re still mad at me. I would be, too. But… I just needed to tell you why I did it. I didn’t mean to be a jerk, and it definitely wasn’t just for another hook up.”

You simply smiled at his words, resting your head on your pillow in a relaxed matter as you continued to watch Dean. He looked exhausted; bags under his eyes, cheeks a little sunken from lack of food and wearing the same clothes you’d saw him in when he came to rescue you. And yet, he still was the handsome, disgustingly beautiful man who gave you butterflies in the shower as he kissed you like no other.

“You’re cute when you’re begging for forgiveness,” you teased, your voice still weak but loud enough to make him crack a smile in response.

“Does this mean you forgive me, though? ‘cause I got more where that came from—”

“—please, no. Spare me the speeches,” you responded with a small laugh. “You’re forgiven, Dean. But you still have a lot to make up for.”

“Oh, you got that right.”

You let out another small laugh, taking a moment to watch his face turn from worried and frowning to relieved and smiling. “C’mere,” you instructed, beckoning over with a tilt of your head. He nodded and stood up, approaching your side and keeping hold of your hands. You leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, just a small peck to feel the smoothness of his lips against yours once again and thank him for what he’d done for you. He smiled, before dipping his lips in once again, except this time he went in for a more passionate kiss, full of meaning and tenderness, caressing your chapped lips and making your entire body tingle. You reached up to press your palm to his cheek, gently stroking his cheekbone and enjoying the way he pulled your bottom lip in between his to play with it.

Even in your weakened state, your body aching whenever you moved and your leg wrapped up in layers of bandages, you still felt that deep urge to take Dean right then and there, have him bend you over the hospital bed and fuck you senseless. But before you could even suggest something like that, your kiss was interrupted by a knock at the door. You pulled away quickly, like two teenagers who’d just been caught doing something naughty behind the bleachers, and you couldn’t help but giggle as a doctor entered your room.

“Ah, you’re awake, Miss. Y/N! Excellent. I was just coming in here to check on your wounds and charts, but now you’re awake I can give you the full run-down of your injuries.”

The doctor told you that you’d clipped an artery when you were shot through the thigh, and had you gotten to the hospital any later you probably would have bled out. Aside from maintaining the hole in your leg which would definitely leave a scar both front and back of your thigh and leave you practically bed-bound for the next couple of months, the rest of your injuries were pretty minor and would clear up in a few weeks.

“So why did I sleep for so long then? I wasn’t… in a coma or anything, was I?”

“No, no. Your body simply needed the rest, and since you were on quite a strong dose of morphine for the pain, you probably wouldn’t remember waking up even if you had. It’s probably a good thing. You recover faster when you’re asleep,” the doctor replied with a cheerful smile. “Now, I’m going to double check everything is fine with your wounds and then let you rest a little longer. You should be able to go home in the morning should everything go to plan tonight.”

With a nod, you allowed the doctor to remove the dressings on your thigh to inspect its healing process. They weren’t lying when they said it was a hole. It was _literally_ a tunnel right through your leg, and you were sure if someone were to look through it they could see through to the other side with ease. Damn. Sam sure didn’t hold back. Not that you had expected him to anyway.

“There we go. I’ve given you some more pain meds through your IV – if you need anymore, let us know. I’ll leave you two alone again.”

And with that, the doctor vanished from the room.

“How’s Sam doing?”

“Oh, he’s fine. Sore, crying like a little bitch, but fine – considering. That demon was a nasty piece of work and he’s lucky he’s not paralysed, or worse.”

Again, you felt a pang of guilt hit your stomach like a ton of bricks. You pouted, and Dean noticed almost instantly. “Hey, hey. I told you, it wasn’t you and it wasn’t your fault. Now, stop. Blaming yourself is not the way to go. Trust me.”

You sighed with a nod. “I want to see him.”

“You can see him tomorrow. For now, you need to rest.”

Despite how much you wanted to argue with Dean, you knew he was right. Although that didn’t stop you huffing like a child and pouting as you crossed your arms over your chest. Dean simply laughed at you, shaking his head at your stubbornness.

It had definitely been the right call, because as soon as your pain meds kicked in from the doctor’s recent dose, you found yourself slipping into a sleep again. It was the first time you’d dreamed since you’d been admitted to hospital, and of course, you dreamed of nothing other than Dean. Except, this time, it wasn’t all sex and lust and pleasure, it was cuddling, tender kisses and general intimacy that made your insides warm and your heart flutter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooh, there we have it folks - who'da thunk the easiest way to winning back a girl is to save her life? dean dating tips 101.
> 
> hope you enjoyed! we're getting into the main story ark of the series so hopefully you like where it's going!
> 
> much love <3
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	8. A Sweet Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, listen. i didn't intend to disappear for months and stop writing this fic, i really didn't. but... a lot of shit happened, y'know? let's just blame covid. the world went to shit. my motivation went to shit. shit happened.
> 
> BUT, i am back! and i am going to try my goddamned best to get this fic finished, because it is my most favourite series to write, okay? and i love that you guys have been enjoying it so far ahhh. makes me so happy!
> 
> this chapter is a long'un with lots of smutty goodness and drama so hopefully that makes up for my lack of updates! 
> 
> really hope you guys enjoy! i have the next few chapters planned out so hopefully will be able to post more soon! <3

You shacked up with Sam and Dean after you got out of the hospital – you had no choice otherwise, considering you had nowhere to go, could barely walk and Dean was _determined_ not to let you out of his sights again.

The boys booked out a motel room for a few weeks, enough time for you and Sam to recover and heal before you worked out your next move to hunt down Amel. You spent a lot of time in bed, cuddling up to Dean and falling asleep on him after popping more strong-ass painkillers, and he was the best form of comfort you could have asked for throughout the whole thing. He would get you and Sam food, clean your clothes, get you beer if you asked for it, too. He helped you change yours and Sam’s dressings on a daily basis and even helped you shower for the first couple of days – although, he never complained when it came to undressing you.

You never had sex throughout the few weeks you spent with him, regardless of how much you both wanted it. Mainly because Sam was there most of the time, but even when you did find yourself alone with him and tried anything on with him he would say no. _No, you’re still healing. No, I don’t want to hurt you. No, Sam will be back any minute._ You appreciated the caution, but by the time the third week hit, you were getting sexually frustrated beyond belief.

So, you decided to shake things up a little. You had decided once you got out of the hospital that you would find a way to ward yourself about any future possession, refusing to let anything like that happen to you again. So, when Dean headed into the shower and Sam fell asleep reading one of his books one Thursday afternoon, you decided to sneak out.

You visited a local tattoo parlour. Maybe getting a tattoo weeks after getting shot by an incredibly powerful firearm wasn’t the most sensible thing to do, but you’d waited long enough to leave yourself vulnerable after the possession. You handed the tattoo artist the picture of what you needed and climbed into the chair, letting her get to work.

When you returned to the motel, Dean greeted you with panic. _Wonderful._

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded, marching right up to you like a worried parent.

“Woah, woah, woah! Dean, calm down. I just… nipped out to run an errand, that’s all.”

“An errand? The only errand you need to be doing right now is focusing on getting better. What could you possibly have been doing that could be more important than staying put and—”

With that, you turned around and pulled your pants down, flashing your bare ass and lifting the plastic dressing protecting your new anti-possession tattoo on your right ass cheek. Dean stopped mid-sentence, pausing to look at the new symbol on your backside, brows raising slightly.

“You… I…”

“You like it?” you asked with a grin spreading across your lips.

“I… y-yeah. I guess it’s pretty neat.”

“And now I won’t ever be possessed again. How can you be mad at that?”

“I guess I can’t be.”

His eyes were still pinned to your ass, and you enjoyed the way he tried to control himself at the sight of it. You knew he had been struggling to keep his hands off of you over the past few weeks, only stopping himself from fucking you silly because he was scared of hurting you again or getting caught by his brother, but you knew this new tattoo of yours had definitely reminded him of what he was missing.

A throat clear snapped both you and Dean out of your gazes at one another, and you looked up to see Sam sitting on his bed, watching the whole thing. “As creative as that tattoo is, I think I’ve seen enough of it,” Sam spoke, looking awkwardly at the TV, trying to avoid staring at your ass. You laughed, pressing the dressing back onto your tattoo and pulling up your leggings again.

“Sorry, Sam,” you said, before walking past Dean and to yours and Dean’s bed. You found yourself in a bit of predicament now that you had a fresh wound on your ass and a consistent ache from your thigh. You couldn’t figure out how to sit without it hurting, and so you settled on laying on your front on the bed, pointing yourself at TV and holding your head up with your hands so you could watch whatever show was playing.

You looked over at Dean and smirked. “Come on, Dean. No need to worry anymore. I’m home now. Come watch TV.”

Dean looked a little flustered from the whole deal but nodded slightly before joining you in bed. He sat with his back against the headboard, your body lain out right in front of him, and he couldn’t help but watch you, taking in every inch of your body that he missed so much and thinking about what he would do when he finally got you alone.  
  


* * *

  
It didn’t happen straight away.

Not that day, not the day after that, not even the day after that either.

You picked your time perfectly, when you _knew_ Sam wouldn’t be back for a couple hours – he decided he needed some time alone since being cooped up with you and Dean wasn’t good for any of sanities. When you _knew_ your pain was perfectly medicated enough to not make you dopey. And after you’d spent about an hour in the shower shaving every part of your body – since being in pain the last few weeks had certainly inhibited your usual hair removal routines.

Dean had no idea what was coming to him.

Of course, your leg was still in bits and nowhere near healed, and overall, your body didn’t feel as strong as it used to, but you fucking _needed_ this, and nothing was going to stop you at this point.

You’d snuck a sneaky piece of lingerie into the bathroom with you when you disappeared to shower. A black, lacy babydoll with a built-in push up bra that made your breasts look _amazing_ , paired with a black crotchless thong (for easy access). As you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of confidence. Sure, you didn’t look your best, but you didn’t need to, not after what you’d just gone through. Demon possession, shot right through the leg and beaten to a pulp, yet here you were – still standing. You didn’t care that the bandages on your thigh poked out from under the lace of the babydoll. You didn’t care that the poorly healed scars on your back from the psycho ghost dog attack a few months ago were visible. You were a warrior. A fierce bitch. And nothing was going to put you down: not now, not ever.

And with that, you turned around to unlock the door, and stepped out into the motel room.

Dean didn’t notice at first, eyes pinned on some cheesy soap opera on TV, but when he _did_ finally look at you… his jaw nearly hit the floor. His hands immediately went to his crotch, as if his boner had hit his jeans so hard it hurt, and his eyes bulged in awe. Just the reaction you were looking for.

“What’s wrong, Dean? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh, no, sweetheart. Ghosts aren’t as stunning as you are,” he replied, jumping to his feet and walking over to you, his arms slipping around your waist. “What’s the occasion, huh? Missed me that much?”

There it was. That… _tone_ of his _._ The dominant in him, coming out already. It drove you crazy and never failed to instantly turn you on. This side of Dean was one of your favourites, so different to his every day-to-day personality, and you _loved_ that you were the only one that got to see it.

“Mmm… you know I have. And I know you’ve missed me too.” Your hands ran slowly up Dean’s toned chest, enjoying the feel of him under your fingertips. Sure, you’d been close the past few weeks, cuddling and sleeping in the same bed, but Dean knew you were hurting, and he’d respected your boundaries, despite your best attempts to break them. But nothing beat the feeling of touching him like _this_ , feeling each and every inch of him and knowing he was yours for the taking.

“Oh, you don’t even know how much I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” he said with a smirk, his eyes hungry with lust as he looked at you, eyes running up and down your body and taking in every part of you. “But I have a feeling we’re going to make up for that.”

With that, Dean leaned in and planted his lips onto yours, stealing your breath alongside a moan of appreciation of the feeling you’d been missing for so long. His masterful lips sucking, tugging, caressing yours, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it again. His kisses were as tender and passionate as they were that night in Vegas and the familiar butterflies that filled your stomach then had returned again, too. They only fuelled your arousal more, making you notice how quickly you became wet under Dean’s touch.

He guided you over to the bed, laying down on it first before allowing you to climb on top, adjusting yourself to straddle his hips without putting too much pressure on your wound. You could already feel how hard he was underneath you, his restricted erection pressing against your core as you retained your kiss. You couldn’t help but allow your hips to rock against it, eliciting a moan from him into your mouth as he enjoyed the way you moved above him.

You couldn’t help the string of moans that trailed from your lips as the two of you became one through your kisses, Dean’s hands running up your body, caressing the material of the lingerie that clung to your curves, fingertips tracing the outline of your breasts as you rocked your hips in sync with his.

This felt… different. A good different. Something you’d never really felt before. You weren’t really sure what you were with Dean, but you knew it was something you’d never had before. Each touch sent fire through your body, causing your insides to flutter and your heart to skip a beat as well as turning you on more with every move he made. Sure, you’d been with plenty of people, slept with both men, women… whoever you fancied that particular night. But with Dean… it felt like it actually meant something; that you should cherish each and every moment while it lasted. And sure, maybe that had stemmed from your inability to stay more than 24 hours with someone, insisting on running out before you _could_ cherish it, but you’d been given the chance to do so with Dean, and so you would, for once in your life, enjoy it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Dean’s fingers slipped between your legs and felt the crack in your underwear where there definitely should have been material. “What’s this, hm?” he asked after pulling away from the kiss and looking up at you with a smirk.

“Easy access. Figured it would be easier with the leg.”

Dean let out a short chuckle. “Beautiful _and_ smart. I hit the jackpot.”

“Oh, shut up and fuck me, Winchester.”

Dean grinned and masterfully flipped you onto your back, making sure your injured leg was supported throughout the manoeuvre, and dipped back in to regain the kiss he’d broken. You reached forward and quickly got to work unfastening his belt and jeans, pushing them down his hips for Dean to then kick them off. Your right hand then pressed against the hard erection tenting his briefs, smirking against the kiss as you felt the small wet patch where his precum had soaked.

He growled against your lips at the feel of your touch, bucking his hips slightly against your movements as you stroked his dick through the restrictive material.

“Don’t tease,” he muttered between your kiss.

“Hm… and what if I do?” you replied similarly.

Without warning, he grabbed both your wrists and pressed them back against the headboard in such a quick motion that it drew a gasp from your lips. “You really don’t want to know, sweetheart. I’ve had enough teasing from you over the past few weeks. That ass of yours… constantly grinding my dick when we spoon; your wandering hands… you’re lucky I haven’t snapped already.”

“So… you’re saying I’ve been a bad girl and definitely deserved to be punished?”

You were playing with fire, and you knew that. But you’d gone without Dean for so long that you were prepared to take whatever he was willing to give you, whether it be rough or not.

“Y/N… watch what you ask for,” he warned, his voice gruff and low, making you bite your bottom lip in response to the tone he’d spoken in. God, he was so hot.

“Or what?”

“Or you won’t be able to walk straight by the time I’m done with you.”

“Well… don’t know if you’ve noticed but, recently I can’t really walk much at all right now, so… I think we’re good.”

You could see the devilish expression of his face sink in at your words before he quickly flipped you onto your front. “Get on all fours,” he demanded as he stood up, walking over to his duffel bag at the corner of the room, before he paused and turned around, “if you can.”

You let out a small giggle at his concern, but your pain meds allowed you to put some weight on your leg while they were in your system, so you did as you were told and got onto all fours on the bed. Dean returned shortly after grabbing something from his duffel, and it was only revealed to be a set of rope when he was tying it around your wrists and attaching them to the headboard of the bed. He’d obviously had a lot of practice tying people up over the years, because the binds were near perfect, allowing you only movement to adjust your wrists to be comfortable and no more. You were fully exposed, your body at his full disposal, and just the thought of that made you impossibly wetter.

“Look at this perfect, beautiful ass…” he started, running his fingertips over the outline of your ass cheeks, prickling your skin with goose bumps as he did and sending waves of shivers up your spine. “What a shame I’m about to destroy it.”

With that, he quickly brought a palm against the plump bits of your tattoo-less ass-cheek, eliciting a sharp hiss from you, followed with a soft whine of appreciation.

“Hm… like that, sweetheart? Always knew we were great for each other… you’re just as nasty as I am. Isn’t that right?” Dean followed up his words with another swift strike to your ass, pulling a moan from your body as your skin burned where his hand collided with it. He rubbed the area gently afterwards, allowing the sting to be soothed slightly before his hands ran downwards towards your pussy.

“Oh, you’re definitely enjoying this, alright,” he stated, before pressing a finger to your lips and pressing it inside, your pussy swallowing up the digit eagerly and causing you to let out your first real moan of the night. His finger felt so good, even with the limited movement he made with it. “Look how wet you are for me. Maybe you’re not a bad girl after all… this is definitely the pussy of a very, _very_ good girl.”

The first feeling of his finger inside of you made you instantly crave more, but you knew Dean had better plans for you.

“And you know what good girls get?”

You paused, looking over your shoulder at him as best as you could. He smirked down at you and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Endless orgasms.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine at the thought of that, and you wanted nothing but that to happen. “Yes, sir.”

Dean let out a low growl at the use of your pet name for him, reminding him of the night you spent in Vegas together when you referred to him by the same name there. Well, before he totally fucked things up, but he didn’t dwell on that part.

He disappeared from your ear and you felt a dip in the bed behind you as he crawled onto it, his hands finding your ass, carefully manoeuvring around your still-healing tattoo, before his head dipped between your legs and his tongue found its way between the slit in your panties, parting your pussy lips apart and lapping up the wetness around your opening from behind. You let out a loud, whimpering moan in response, the soft pressure of his tongue toying with your opening shooting fireworks through your pussy. This was the most pleasure you’d had in weeks, and it felt better than ever; the wait definitely becoming evidentially worth it.

His tongue dipped further down, finding your clit easily and working thoroughly on that, eliciting more noises from you that you couldn’t control. His repetitive motions, paired with the fact that you hadn’t come in over a month and the fact that you were so fucking _horny_ at that point, meant that your first orgasm came hard, and came fast. Of course, though, you _were_ a good girl, after all, and asked permission first.

“D-Dean, can I cum? Please, _fuck,_ I’m gonna cum already,” you whined, desperate to release that built up tension in your core.

Dean didn’t reply with words. He simply made the vague sound of ‘uh-huh’ against your clit, not wanting to lose that momentum he’d built up, and almost as soon as he’d let you know it was okay to do so, your first orgasm hit you like a truck. Your pussy pulsing, your clit throbbing and becoming _extremely_ sensitive under Dean’s tongue, to the point you had to pull away once you’d rode through the high; it was perfect. But that wasn’t the end of that.

Without warning, he slipped two fingers into your cunt and began to pump them back and forth, masterfully hitting your g-spot and causing you to hiss at the sudden stimulation. Your pussy was still sensitive, but you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his fingers, enjoying the way he curved them against your g-spot, pressing against with purpose with each insertion. You knew what he was doing. It had never really been done before with another person, but you knew it was possible from previous times you’d tried it yourself. You could feel that familiar balloon filling within you, the deep pleasure making your moans return and fill the room. There was no consideration for the neighbours today. You didn’t even think you’d care if Sam walked in on the two of you at that moment. You’d been dreaming of this for weeks, and nothing was going to stop your time with Dean now.

You started to hear that familiar ‘squidging’ noise as Dean continued to curl his fingers against your g-spot, the tension inside of you building and building until you thought you were about to burst.

“D-Dean, I’m gonna—”

“—Do it.”

That was all you needed. Your pussy pulsed and contracted as it squirted all over Dean’s hand – his intentions haven been successful – and he continued to press that little spot in you that seemed to make your stream continue to gush from you and make your full body intensely tremble in pleasure. Your vision went blurry and you felt a little dizzy from the intensity of it all. You hadn’t squirted for _years_ , and the fact that you’d just done it at the hands of Dean Winchester made it all the more satisfying. You were breathing heavily when he finally pulled his fingers from you.

“We maybe should’ve put down some towels,” Dean noted, a smug tone to his words. You tried to look round as best as you could, and he was right – your bed was _soaked_. Shit. You’d definitely have to find some new sheets before Sam got back.

Frankly, you couldn’t really say anything. You were a little drunk on pleasure at that point, your head still spinning and unable to form coherent sentences at that point. Dean noticed this quickly when you remained quite and chuckled to himself a little. He leaned back into your ear and purred, “You enjoy that, baby?”

“Mm… so good,” you squeaked, tilting your head to look up at him. He took the chance to press his lips to yours, and you hummed pleasantly against his lips in response. God, you couldn’t get enough of his kisses, no matter how many he gave you on a daily basis. They were too good; addictive. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to leave his side again if it meant not receiving those kisses on a regular basis.

“Ready for more?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

You never thought you would love being praised by Dean as much as you did, but you couldn’t get enough of it. If it meant it got you more orgasms like the last two, you were tempted to turn into a 100% good girl for the rest of your life.

You heard Dean rustling around, the sound of clothes hitting the floor behind you making you excited with every second. He returned to the bed, assuming his position behind you, his hands on your hips again and you felt his hard, wet tip at your entrance. You groaned, instinctively rocking your hips back to invite him inside.

“Ah-ah, missus. You need to be patient for that, alright? Good girls are patient, right?”

You let out a small huff. “I guess,” you mumbled, your bratty side shining through.

“That’s not the answer I was looking for.”

You swallowed at the almost _sternness_ of his voice. “Yes, _sir_.”

“There’s my good girl. Now, we’re gonna take this nice and slow.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re not going to get impatient and rush things.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you will be reward for it at the end.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, Dean pushed his tip inside of you, your pussy swallowing him up and clinging around it instantly. You moaned, the urge to move your hips towards him incredibly strong, but you refrained. He continued to do this – inch inside of you, slowly, purposely, making you whimper and whine with each insertion of his length. God, he definitely knew how to make you desperate for him, and you _knew_ it was what made him amazing, but you wanted nothing but to disobey his orders and slam yourself down onto his cock. But, you didn’t. You were, after all, his good girl tonight.

“Mm… nearly there, baby girl,” Dean said, the pleasure in his voice making this whole experience worth the wait. He was so incredibly hot when he was hot for you.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of your pussy begging for more of Dean inside of it, he reached the base of his cock, his full length inside of you and giving you that satisfactory feeling of being filled. You let out such a satisfied moan, your fingernails digging into the restraints around your wrists.

“Hm, aren’t you such a good, _good_ girl? And like I said, good girls get _endless_ orgasms.”

With that, Dean pulled back, instantly slamming himself back inside of you seconds later. You screamed in pleasure, and he continued that motion over and over again until he’d built up a consistent rhythm. You couldn’t _breathe_ , the pleasure was so intense; your moans were rugged and unsteady, and your breaths hard to control. He was hitting your g-spot the same way he had before, except now it was so much more forceful, and the intensity left you with nothing to do but cry out in pure ecstasy.

That familiar feeling built up inside of you; that balloon ready to pop. “G-gonna—cum—D-Dean—” was all you could get out between your rugged breathes and endless cries.

“Mm-hm, baby girl. You better cum all over me.”

Your pussy seemed to _explode_ , your climax gushing over Dean’s cock and lower torso, yet he showed no signs of stopping, and neither did your orgasm. You were shaking uncontrollably, your ropes digging into your wrists as you held on as if your life depended on it. He didn’t stop, not until you physically couldn’t take it anymore.

But fortunately for you, Dean couldn’t take it anymore, either. His orgasm shot inside of you, hot and thick, mixing with your own juices and the only thing that stopped his hips from moving. You were speechless by the end of it, totally dick-drunk and light-headed by the time he’d pulled out of you. Your legs were jelly, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You’d never felt anything like it.

Dean disappeared for a moment to get a towel from the bathroom, returning seconds later to place the towel underneath you. Then, he worked quickly to untie your restraints, supporting your upper body when letting you free, knowing you would be weak from the experience.

He helped you roll onto your back and joined you too. The room fell quiet after that, your breaths the only thing audible at that moment.

You turned to him after five minutes had passed. He turned to you. You locked eyes for a moment, before you finally managed to fathom some words to say.

“I think I love you.”

Dean let out a laugh, mostly of disbelief, but then when you said nothing afterwards, his face scrunched up. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“But… wait. What? You’re just saying that from the sex.”

“I’m not.”

Dean fell silent.

You finally managed to find some strength to turn on your side and look at him. “I’m not the type of person to say that word. Ever. To anyone. But Dean… it’s the only way I can explain the way I feel about you. Over the past few weeks, the way you’ve looked after me… it’s just made me realise that there’s a _reason_ why there’s such a strong connection between us. We’re _meant_ to be together. We’re like yin and yang; two parts of the same puzzle, perfectly fitting together whenever we’re with one another. And when we’re not together, we can’t function.”

This was as much of a surprise to you as it probably was to Dean, but everything you said came directly from your heart. You’d tried to suppress the strong feelings you’d felt over the past few weeks, but at the end of the day you knew exactly what they were. Love. Like something you’d never felt before, because you’d never had the opportunity to find someone capable of it.

Dean remained silent.

“Dean?” you questioned, your face turning into a slight frown, worried you’d maybe scared him.

“I’m… I’m good,” he replied, pulling himself off the bed and grabbing his clothes, throwing them on in a rushed manner. “I just… I’ll be back.”

“What? What do you mean you’ll be back? Where are you going?”

“Y/N… just… I’ll be back.”

And with that, he was out the door. You were left, in a puddle of your own making, rope burns prominent on your wrist and the pain of your leg starting to return now that the painkillers were wearing off. You were _pissed_. How _dare_ he walk out on you when you just poured your heart out to him like that? You were beyond pissed. But you were also heartbroken. He’d done it again, betrayed you after you became vulnerable around him. Just like Vegas.

But this time, you couldn’t leave. You were physically unable to get up, pack your bags and leave, because one, you had no idea where they’d put your truck, and two, you weren’t able to get around without a high dosage of medication in your system to ease the pain. So, you just had to sit there, alone, and with your heart on your sleeve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof. just... big oof.
> 
> don't ask me where these chapter endings come from, 'cause i have no idea. all i know is that it must be a very sadistic part of my psyche. 
> 
> more to come soon, loves! leave a comment if ya enjoyed - it really helps keep my motivation up when if i know you guys are enjoying the fic!
> 
> thanks for reading <3
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	9. Each Other's Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big chapter ahead, folks! it's a long'un, so buckle up and enjoy the ride!
> 
> lemme know your thoughts at the end of it <3

** DEAN’S POV **

_Shit. Shitshitshit. What just happened? Everything was going so well, then she just drops a bombshell like that. What the hell?_

Dean had been on the rode for an hour since he left the motel, and you. Left you there, looking confused and hurt and lost, when all you’d done was told Dean how you really felt for him. Fuck. And then he just got up and left. Like the scared, lost boy that he was, too afraid to commit to anything.

But that was the thing, he _did_ want to commit to you. You were all he thought of. You were his motivation to get up in the morning now – well, and Sam too, obviously. You were the only woman he’d stayed with for a prolonged period of time and genuinely enjoyed the time together, rather than wanting to be somewhere else. And yet, he couldn’t find the guts to say ‘I love you’ back, even though that was truly how he felt.

So, he drove, like he usually did to clear his head and try to figure things out. He drove all the way from the motel, straight to Bobby’s house. It was where he went when he needed genuine, honest advice, and Bobby was the most genuinely honest person he knew other than you and Sam.

He arrived within an hour and a half of driving. Bobby seemed to recognise the rumble of the Impala as it pulled up to his house and met Dean outside, a questioning brow raised at his arrival.

“You okay, boy?” he asked as Dean approached him.

“No, Bobby. I’m not.”

Bobby nodded and put his arm around Dean’s shoulders as he led him inside. “I’ll get the whisky.”

The two of you sat down when Bobby came back with drinks and Dean simply held his head in his hands. “I think… I think I messed things up, Bobby.”

“What happened?”

“Y/N… she’s been staying with us since Amel, just healing and stuff, y’know. But we’ve gotten… so close. I liked her before Bobby, really liked her. She was all I could think about, and now… now I frickin’ love her. And she loves me. And she told me, just before I bolted out the door like a coward.”

Dean’s hands trembled with anger at himself, and he couldn’t help but slam his fist on the table in frustration. “I just left her. But… I couldn’t find the courage to say it back. It just… hit me, that we both live the same lives, y’know? Risking our asses on a daily basis hunting all kinds of dangerous shit. Both of us, and at any moment either of us could get killed and ripped apart from each other. I can’t lose her, Bobby. She’s too perfect.”

Bobby sat there and listened, taking in Dean’s words and emotions, before he shook his head and sighed. “Dean, I know you’re terrified of losing the people you love, but… ya gotta get a life at some point, kid. You’re not gonna be a hunter forever, whether you want to or not. One day, you’ll need that person to turn to and settle with, and Y/N might just be that person. Besides, I’ve known that girl for years. Never seen her fail a hunt, never seen her ask for help, and except for that mix-up with Amel, she’s never needed help. She’s a tough cookie, Dean – you know this – and I think you’re being too cautious about the whole thing.”

Dean looked up at Bobby as he spoke and shook his head. “Bobby, I can’t.”

“So, what now, huh? You run away from the one woman you’ve ever loved because you’re too scared to take a risk and be happy with her? Never to return to her and break her heart? I’ve never seen Y/N express those kinds of feelings for _anyone_ in the time I’ve known her, and now she’s finally opened up to you you’re just going to say, ‘no thanks’ and disappear?”

“Well, no—”

“—then what, Dean? You ain’t getting any younger, kid, and it’s high-time you take the chance with something like this before it’s too late and suddenly you’re an old, washed up alcoholic with nobody left in your life but the few people you hunted with.”

The room fell silent. Dean knew Bobby was talking about himself, referring to the wife he’d lost. He’d never really recovered from it, not in all the time Dean had known him. And while that was what Dean was scared of, he remembered Bobby with his wife; how happy they were together. He’d never seen Bobby that happy ever since, even on his best days.

Maybe he was right – maybe Dean should give happiness a try for once. There was still that awful feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, but it was quickly washed away by the image of your smile in his head. Your gorgeous smile, partnered with a laugh at one of Dean’s jokes. He loved making you laugh. It was one of his favourite things to do.

“So, what do I do?” Dean asked as he looked back at Bobby. “Do I like, marry her or something?”

“Why don’t you just spend more time with her. Marriage is an option, sure, but ya don’t gotta rush into that kind of commitment so fast. Get to know her more. Take her on a date or two. Enjoy your time together. Then, see how the hunting life is together. You may find you might not work well with one another after a while, and you wanna find that out sooner than later.”

Dean nodded. It all sounded easy, but he now had to deal with the fact that he’d ditched you again. “How do I say sorry without her punching me in the face when I go back?”

“You take it like a man when it happens. That girl’s been through some shit and you got some nerve doing her like that. You go back there, apologise and take whatever abuse she hurls back at you without question, and hope she’ll take you back.”

Right. Hope that you’d take him back. You didn’t have to. You probably shouldn’t, considering all the shit Dean’s put you through already. But Dean had to try anyway.

The visit was short, and Dean made a mental note to come back and spend some time with Bobby soon. The man was truly his father, more than John ever had been, and he appreciated him more than he knew it.

He gave Bobby a quick hug before thanking him and returning back to his car. He took a few deep breaths and turned the ignition, before reversing out of Bobby’s place. He had the whole journey to think about how he would apologise, and he really tried to make it genuine.

Although, by the time he got back to the motel, he realised he may have been too late.

The motel door was broken open and the room was trashed. Dean looked everywhere but there was no sign of you anywhere, and to make matters worse there was a trail of blood leading from the bed to the door. Dean went into a full-blown panic. This was all his fault – again, he never should have left you and left you vulnerable. It only meant you would get hurt. And now you were gone.

Dean sat on the bed defeatedly, holding his head in his hands, and letting out a frustrated cry. It was only then that Sam walked through the door, looking as startled at the sight in front of him.

“Dean? What happened? Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s gone, Sammy. I think someone took her. And it’s all my fault.”

Dean had choked up at this point, his voice breaking with every word he spoke. He couldn’t hold it back any longer – he was beyond frustrated with himself. If only he wasn’t such a coward and just stayed with you when he had the chance. He would have been there to protect you.

“It’s not your fault, Dean. Listen, we’ll figure this out. Like we always do, right?”

Dean didn’t move or reply. He just tried his best to keep himself from totally falling apart while Sam started to search the room to see if there were any clues as to where you had disappeared to. After a few moments, he returned from the bathroom to the main room, feeling an empty pit in his stomach when he realised there weren’t any leads to go off of. That is, until he spotted a little note sitting on your duffel bag in the corner of the room, easy to miss until you looked directly at it. Sam rushed over – well, as fast as he could with his injured back – and picked up the note.

“Dean,” he said before he started reading the note aloud, “if you want to find your precious… slut, come to this address, and come alone.”

Dean’s head shot up to look at Sam, rushing over to him and grabbing the note from his grasp. He read it, over and over again, etching the address into his memory as he did, never wanting to forget it. “We need to go. Now.”

“Dean, wait – this is obviously a trap. We need to call Bobby and prepa—”

“—we don’t have time for that shit. We need to go now before they hurt her.”

“Dean, plea—”

“—Sammy, _please._ I don’t care if we’re not prepared. I don’t care if we need help. All I care about is _her_ right now, and if you want to waste time ‘preparing’ then do it on your own ‘cause I’m going to this address, _now.”_

And with that, Dean marched out of the room and to his car, starting it up and pulling out of the motel room without a second thought, leaving Sammy behind in the motel room to figure out what to do next.

* * *

** READER’S POV **

It all happened so fast. One minute you were sobbing into your pillow after the only man you’d ever loved stormed out after you’d told him, the next you were tied up in chains, hanging from the ceiling of a dark, sweltering room, barely conscious and bleeding profusely from the wound on your leg. You assumed when you were ambushed that the stitches in your thigh snapped, and the loss of blood already made you feel woozy.

“Ahh, there she is. Good morning, sunshine! Rise and shine!”

That voice sent a shudder through your body. _Amel._ You should have known that nasty bitch was behind this. Probably wanting revenge from the warehouse incident. Your eyes were heavy but you managed to look over at her and glare, spitting some fresh blood at her in response to her taunts.

“Excuse me, Y/N, that’s not how we greet our hosts now, is it? So rude.”

You wanted to punch the smirk she had on her face clean off, but you could barely move your hands at all; your chains were so tight around your wrists. There wasn’t a part of your body that didn’t hurt at that moment, yet you still felt the most hurt in your heart. Dean was still prominent in your thoughts, despite the issue at hand. He really truly fucked you over, and words couldn’t explain how badly you wanted to punch him in the face, too. But you also just wanted to see him again. Tell him you wanted things to go back to how they were, no feelings needed. You didn’t want to lose him, not even if it meant suppressing your feelings around him.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

Your eyes narrowed at the nickname. Only Dean got to call you that. “Don’t call me that.”

Amel smirked. “Oh? Is that name only reserved for your lover boy? What’s his name again? Ah, yes. _Dean Winchester._ Of course, _you’d_ be screwing Hell’s most hated.”

Your brows furrowed at her remark. Hell’s most hated? You knew the Winchesters had a bit of a reputation, but Amel made it seem like they were almost famous amongst monsters. Maybe not for the right reasons – more like in the same way Freddy Krueger was famous amongst children for murdering them in their sleep.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. It just makes you _very_ special to me, misses. You’re obviously a good match for him if the feelings are returned. Nobody makes someone like Dean Winchester pick them as _his_ unless they’re special.”

What the hell was she talking about? Special? You weren’t special. You just happened to be in the right bar at the right time and got his juices flowing enough for him to want to come back. There wasn’t anything special about that at all.

“Y’know, when you started hunting me, I didn’t actually realise who you were until you summoned me at that warehouse and the Winchesters showed up to save you. But it all clicked when I got into that pretty noggin of yours. It all made sense when I saw what you thought of him and saw how he looked at you. The chosen ones.”

“What?”

Amel struck your ribs with a nasty blow, stripping the wind from your lungs and making your abdomen cramp up.

“Don’t play coy with me, bitch. You know what I’m talking about.”

You spluttered up some blood and spat it on the floor before raising your head weakly at her. “I don’t—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Again, she struck you, but this time across the face, splitting your bottom lip and causing blood to splatter across her face and knuckles. She smirked as you let out a pained cry.

“Unless you don’t know…” she started, circling you and looking you up and down with a devilish smile planted on her lips. “Maybe, you’re clueless to how important you really are. I suppose it would make sense. No one knows what they’re destined for unless they’re told, right? And from the precious sincerity of your denials, I assume nobody _has_ told you.”

“Told me _what?”_ you asked, your words muffled as you struggled to talk with your injured lip.

Amel struck you again. This time, across the cheekbone, splitting your skin with the pure force of her strike. Again, your cries echoed through the dark room and you felt blood pouring from the fresh wound. You couldn’t even fathom how painful everything was.

“I’m _getting_ to that, slut. Be _patient,_ ” she hissed, shooting a sinister glare at you as she walked back to perch herself on a table a few feet away from you. She crossed her legs over one another and seemed to make herself comfy before she smiled sweetly and looked at you. “Now, where shall I begin?”

You weren’t sure what was happening. Destiny? You weren’t destined for anything but to die in a hunt and that would be that. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“So, you know what I am, yes?”

You let out a weak cough before you spoke. “Duchess of Hell.”

“Ah, been doing your homework, I see. Yes – I am the Duchess of Hell. There is only one of me, and will only ever be one of me until I die and my reign is passed to one of my children. And do you know, my dear Y/N, what I do?”

“Breed.”

“Correct again! My sole purpose is to produce _pure blood_ demons. Not these half-assed corrupted humans with weak powers and no control over it. No – my children are powerful. They have _skill_ and they know how to use it. All of my children are known for their sinister doings here in hell and are _especially_ important. They are my legacy.”

You held your tongue, tempted to make a smartass remark about how happy you were for Amel and her children, but even the satisfaction of a sarcastic joke wouldn’t be worth the beating you’d receive for it, so you stayed quiet. Not that you could talk very well at that point anyway.

“Most races have a chosen pair whose sole purpose is to carry on the lineage of their kind. They’re chosen because they’re the best of the best and their genes are strong; strong enough to be passed down to future generations to help them thrive. And that’s where you come in, sweetheart.”

No. She must have been lying. Trying to wind you up so she could beat you down. This was all a ploy to make you lose your shit.

“Why do you think you and Dean have found each other? I’m guessing now that the two of you have met, any time you’re apart it’s physically impossible not to think of them every second of the day. And when you’re together? Ahh, it’s like two pieces of the puzzle, fitting together perfectly. The perfect match.”

You were starting to panic a bit. This was all a lot to take in all at once, even more so that you were nowhere near Dean to tell him.

“So, what?” you spoke coarsely, your voice weak. “We’re supposed to repopulate the hunter community with better hunters? Is that right?”

“Bingo! Your destiny, my love, is to cancel out _my destiny_. And that’s what brings us here now.”

It hit you. This was all planned out. Kidnap you to bait out Dean, have the two of you in the same room, and murder you both. End of the line. End of the lineage. You had to find a way to contact Dean, but you knew your chances of that were slim. So, you kept talking to buy you some time.

“So, I’m guessing Dean is on the way then?” you questioned, looking over at Amel.

“Yup!”

“And when he gets here… then what? You kill us both?”

Amel let out a malicious chuckle. “No, silly! That would be too easy. You hunters always have your ways of coming back, no matter how many times we kill ya. No, we’re just going to sterilise you both. Y’know, the fun, manual, _bloody_ way!”

Your whole body paled at the thought. Your mind filled with images of Amel strapping you down to a table and cutting you open, scooping your reproductive organs out one by one until there was nothing left but an empty hole in your lower abdomen. She would make it long. She would make it painful. The thought of it made you sick. And when Dean got there… you couldn’t bear to think of the pain they’d put him through either.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You don’t look so good. Maybe you should take a nap until Dean gets here. You’ll definitely need a lot of rest before your surgery!”

The combination of blood loss, pain, and the overwhelming fear of receiving a hysterectomy from a psychopath made you pass out. Honestly, the loss of consciousness was nice. At least you didn’t have to listen to Amel talking shit for a little bit.

* * *

** DEAN’S POV **

Dean probably sped through every traffic light, every stop sign, and every pedestrian crossing on his drive to you. He was lucky he didn’t commit a hundred hit and runs on the way there, but even if he did he still probably wouldn’t have stopped. Nothing mattered right now; nothing but you, and he didn’t care that if by the end of the day he had a warrant out for his arrest for reckless driving. As long as he got you home safe.

He reached the address he’d been left on the note at the motel within thirty minutes of leaving Sam behind. It was an abandoned warehouse – different from the one he’d last saved you in, but pretty much looked the same. Except, something was off. Again, like the warehouse before, there was nobody there: no guards, no lookouts, no patrols. Nothing. And Dean wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing as he walked through the warehouse doors.

There was no sign of you either. The warehouse was empty and completely silent, no sign of any life in there whatsoever. Dean continued to search through the different floors, taking the top level first, his fingers positioned on the trigger of the Colt clenched in his hand, and yet there was still nothing. Was this a trick? Maybe a distraction to get him to go elsewhere when you’d really been taking somewhere different? Dean started to panic as he headed back to the main floor of the warehouse. However, before he gave up hope, he noticed a back door in the corner of the room that he hadn’t checked out yet.

Quickly, he hurried towards it, surprised to find it wasn’t locked when he tried the door handle and pulled it open. He stepped in to see it led to a set of stairs and swallowed, taking a breath before he started to descend them.

They weren’t big, the stairs, and again when he reached the bottom of them he found, yet again, no sign of enemies anywhere. But all his doubt was thrown out the window when he heard a strange noise coming from the door at the bottom of the stairs. Like… no noise he’d heard before. A subtle, pulsing noise, like something was alive behind the door.

He opened it carefully to find the doorway protected by some sort of glowing forcefield. A portal, maybe? Dean hesitated before he raised his hand to test it, just using the bare tips of his fingers to see if it was dangerous or not. His fingers disappeared through the portal without any issue, and so he allowed his body to follow suit and step through. What he met on the other side, though, was what he’d feared from the moment he stepped into the warehouse. _So, this is where they’d all been hiding…_

A group of maybe five or six men ambushed him when he reached the other side, grabbing him and putting him in chains before he could even try to fight back. Fuck.

As they marched him down a corridor towards Godknowswhere, he tried to take in his surroundings. It was unbelievably hot, making him start to sweat almost instantly, and the corridor he was in was incredibly dark, barely lit by lanterns hanging from chains on the walls. It was like some sort of dungeon, and as he noticed Amel stepping out of the door at the end of the hallway, it all made sense. Of course it would be her behind all of this.

“Ahh, Dean! There you are! We thought you’d maybe gotten lost, but you made it eventually. Welcome to Hell, sweetheart. But I know you’ve already been acquainted with this place quite a lot, haven’t you? I’ll spare you the tour.”

Hell. Through a portal in an abandoned warehouse. Dean hated to admit it, but it was definitely a smart place to hide it, and extremely discreet. Nobody would find it, and if they did it would probably be too late to stop it what with the army of demons that seemed to guard it.

“Where’s Y/N?” Dean demanded, narrowed eyes glaring at Amel.

“Patience, young grasshopper,” she hushed, stepping forward towards Dean with a smirk on her lips. “Let me have a good look at you.”

She placed a hand on Dean’s cheek, gently rubbing it before she pinched his stubbled chin, moving his head around to admire his features.

“It’s a shame, really. How pretty you are. If you were a demon, we’d have the _prettiest_ babies. Maybe I’ll just keep you as my little sex toy instead of what I’ve planned…”

His brows furrowed at his work; jaw clenched as he tried to move from her touch. “What plans?” he asked, refusing to humour the other things she’d said.

“Oh, you’ll see soon enough. Your little lover will tell you all about it when you get to her. Speaking of which, let’s go see her now.”

Dean started to feel nervous at then mention of you, an uneasy pit in his stomach at the thought of Amel having you captive here. She led the way into the room she’d come out of, Dean being pushed to follow her by the demons behind him quickly after. It was hard to walk with his hands chained behind his back, but he managed to step into the room of question, his stomach sinking when he finally got sight of you.

Bloody, bruised and broken, still in the lingerie set he’d left you in and dangling by chains from the ceiling, totally unconscious. It was truly a heartbreaking sight, and Dean couldn’t do anything but blame himself for allowing this to happen.

“Y/N?” he tried as he was lead past you to a set of chains a metre away from where you were hanging, his eyes pinned to you as the demons worked at attaching your restrains to the chains, lifting you off your feet as you were strung up by your wrists. 

“Don’t worry, Dean. She’s been out for a while. I’ll wake her up for you.”

“—wait, no!”

Before Dean could stop her, Amel gave you an uppercut to the chin, knocking the breath out of you as your eyes sprung open. Dean grimaced, turning away at the sight of your pain, looking back when he heard you spluttering and spitting blood to the floor. He had to admit, even as a battered mess, you were still beautiful.

“Hello again, Y/N! Enjoy your nap? Look, I’ve brought you a present!”

Amel pointed to Dean, causing your head to lull weakly to the side so you could look at him, your eyes bulging at the sight of him in chains by your side.

“Dean?” you croaked, your voice weak and hoarse.

“Y/N, hey, I’m here. Don’t worry. We’ll get out of this.”

Amel laughed. Laughed and laughed, shaking her head and clutching her stomach. “You guys are hilarious; thinking you can get out of this. No chance in Hell will I let you go. Now that I have you, you’ll never be free again. You’re too important to be free now. I could sell you, maybe. You’d both be worth a lot on the black market, you know. Especially you, Dean.”

Amel walked up to Dean and smirked. “You know how many demons would pay big just to get you to themselves? Even for a day? I could think of a few names off the top of my head… Azazel, Ruby, Alistair… mm, they’d definitely have fun with you.”

Dean looked at Amel with pure hatred in his eyes, darkened and angry. “I’m going to kill you, bitch,” he spat through gritted teeth, “slowly and painfully. So help me God.”

Amel let out another laugh. “God? There is no God that can help you now, Dean. _I_ am your God now, so you better start praying that I’m a merciful one.”

The two of you exchanged glares before Amel broke the silence with a grin, her demeanour totally changing to a cheery one like nothing. “Now! Let’s get this party started, shall we? Now, as we’ve already established, you and Dean are the ‘chosen ones’ out of your kind, and therefore we need to stop you being able to reproduce. Now—”

“Wait, what?” Dean questioned; his face scrunched in confusion.

“Oh, right. You don’t know. Y/N, would you like to inform Dean of your current positions?”

Dean watched as you glared at Amel, before begrudgingly starting to explain everything about your chosen ‘destinies’, how you are the rightful ones to continue the hunter lineage and create the best hunters with your ‘superior’ genes. It all sounded surreal, as if Amel had just made it up, until you explained how she was going to ‘fix’ the situation. Not with death, but with sterilisation, and Dean’s eyes bulged at the thought of being mutilated like that at the hands of someone as crazy as Amel.

“Thank you, Y/N. A+ for you on that wonderful presentation. Now, since we’re all caught up, who wants to go first?” she asked cheerily, gaze flicking between you and Dean.

“Fuck you, Amel,” Dean hissed, refusing to give into her sadistic games.

“I’ll do it.”

Dean’s neck nearly snapped at the speed he looked over at you at. “Y/N, no! You can’t—”

“Wonderful! And so, it’s settled. Boys, get this one down and take her to get ready for her surgery.”

Dean fought his chains as he watched you drop to the floor once they’d released your restraints – you were too weak to fight them and they knew it, so there was no need for them anyway. They pulled you to your feet and pushed you out of the room, Dean’s continuous struggles with his chains the last thing you heard before you were taken into another room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp. amel's a bit of a bitch, alright? but i guess that's demons for ya.
> 
> i've got a few chapters written out so far, so there's lots more to come - and i've even done a lil chapter planning too! who even am i???  
> thank you so much for reading! hopefully you enjoyed this chapter - the next part will be posted soon!
> 
> much love <3
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	10. Open Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haaaaaai dont have much time to post this 'cause bf is on the way over, but hope you enjoy!!

** READER’S POV **

You were sort of numb to the pain your body was constantly feeling by now. Your thigh ached, and you knew it was sore, but it had all started to feel the same now; probably your body’s way of trying to keep you alive. Adrenaline and all that. But even if you were being pumped full of adrenaline, there was no way you were capable of fighting back at this point. You had no energy, and the fact that you’d lost so blood from your leg wound and additional injuries at the hand of Amel, you were surprised you were still alive at this point. But that was probably about to change now that you were being strapped to a surgical table by two demons twice your size. You were sure the blood you were about to lose would tip you over the edge and you would just die.

You knew it would probably be a relief if that were to happen, but at the back of your mind you couldn’t help but fight off those type of thoughts. Dean. Dean was all you thought of right now. How he was back there, about to receive the same treatment as you were, and you couldn’t bare to think of it. You had to help him; had to figure out a way you could free him.

Amel entered the room once the leather restraints around your wrists and feet were secured. You immediately started to subtly wriggle your hands, trying your best to find a way to loosen the straps around your wrists while Amel approached you.

“You look just ravishing, Y/N, you really do. The light in here _really_ does you a justice. I’m sorry things have to go this way, but you have to understand that I’m simply doing this for my children and my kind. It’s a struggle, y’know? Living a life with so much responsibility on my shoulders. But it’s my duty to keep this superior bloodstream alive. That just unfortunately means yours has to die,” she explained as she wheeled over a surgical tool table next to the bed you were tied to. You looked over at them and tried not to pass out over the sight of the different equipment designed to cut you open. Instead, you focused your attention on Amel, still trying to work away at your restraints as you did.

“So, what about the Duke of Hell, then? Where is he in all this?” you asked, trying to hide the fear in your voice.

“Oh, sweetie, he’s around. He’s in charge of the children; gives them jobs, sends them on missions. Makes sure they’re doing what they were born to do. Most of the kids are in charge of demon units, and they all report back to Daddy.”

“So that means he makes the rules, sends out the orders, and makes everyone do his dirty work for him? Which obviously includes you if you’re not at home with him.”

Amel’s eyes narrowed at your words. “No, that’s _not_ how it is.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

“You watch your mouth, slut. I am doing this _voluntarily_. He has no control over me. We are equal partners.”

“So then tell me, why are you out here doing all this dirty work when you told me your job was to reproduce? You don’t _seem_ to be pregnant currently, unless demons just don’t show, and when I found you, you were on a tirade of destroying humans. What’s that all about?”

You could see your words were getting under her skin as she started slamming things down after she’d picked them up, her manoeuvres becoming more and more aggressive. She was so distracted that, at this point, you’d managed to wriggle your thumb out of your restraints without her noticing; one step to getting free completed.

“I just like to take some time away from it all sometimes, alright?” she retorted, resent clear in her tone. “Everyone needs a break, especially when all you do is have baby after baby. It’s hard work, alright?”

You smirked. This was somewhat amusing, hearing an extremely powerful demon complaining about how tiring motherhood was. “I understand. So, does Daddy Duke know you’re doing all this, then?”

Amel stayed quiet as she sorted her tools.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

She swivelled round to look at you and suddenly her hand was on your throat. “Listen, bitch. You don’t know me, and you don’t know how incredibly powerful I am. I could destroy you with a snap of my fingers.”

“I’m waiting,” you said hoarsely between crushed breaths.

She held her grip, slightly tightened it, before she let go with a shove, your head slamming back against the bed. You couldn’t help but laugh at her, although your laughs were winded and broken.

“Laugh all you want, Y/N. You won’t be laughing with this knife in your guts.”

Your laughter was cut off by her words and you looked over to see her carrying a scalpel towards you. You started to squirm a little, shaking your head at her as you saw the look in her eyes. She was really going to do this, and you were still strapped to this fucking table.

“Amel, please – let’s talk about this, alright? Who knows? I’ve had tons of unprotected sex in my life and never fallen pregnant yet. I might be infertile!”

“You aren’t. It’s in your blood. No chosen couple is infertile – that’s the whole point. You were _made_ to reproduce. Besides, from the looks of things, you may have made that baby already, and if that’s the case it needs to go.”

She tugged at the lingerie you still had on – not that you had any other choice in the matter considering they’d snatched you from the motel before you had a chance to ask if you could change. You continued to squirm, wiggling your other thumb from the strap, enough that if she did come over to you now that you could pull your hands out and defend yourself, or so you hoped. Although, with your feet strapped down, you’d only have a limited time to untie them, too.

She continued to move towards you, and you could see yourself in the reflection of the scalpel. Fuck, what a mess. She’d truly done a number on your face, but you weren’t prepared to let her do anything more to you.

“Amel, please—”

“Shut the fuck up. Nothing you say can stop this from happening.”

She lifted the lacy material of your baby-doll up, revealing your bare stomach and causing a sadistic expression to light up her face. She pressed the scalpel down against your skin, pressing hard enough to draw blood and starting to carve a line down your lower abdomen. You tried to pull the rest of your hands from your restrains but they got caught at your knuckles, and now that your body had gone into fight or flight response, it was hard to focus on anything with panic coursing through your veins.

“No, please! Stop, please!” you begged, trying your best to pull your hands free. You didn’t want to wriggle too much, either, in case it caused even more damage to your stomach, but finally one of your hands popped out the wrist strap and you swung your fist into Amel’s face, causing her fall back into the tool table behind her. You took the chance before her guards noticed the commotion from outside the room and untied the rest of your restraints.

You sat up, swung your legs over the edge of the table and hopped off, but your leg could barely hold any of your weight and you dropped to the floor in a slump with a cry of pain escaping your lips. You couldn’t stay there for long – Amel had already gained her composure and was shouting for the guards – and so you pulled yourself up and grabbed the nearest tool by you: a large metal bowl, probably used to hold organs and such. You knew this wouldn’t kill the demons, by all means, but as long as it could incapacitate any incoming attackers and give you enough time to escape, it would do.

And it did – every one of Amel’s guards ran at you and you managed to knock them down with a hard blow. You were running on pure adrenaline right now, the only thing keeping you upright and fighting. Fortunately, one of the guards seemed to drop some sort of gun from his clothes when he hit the floor, and to your delight, as you picked it up you recognised it straight away. The Colt. They must have confiscated it from Dean when they captured him.

Amel was rushing towards you when you pulled the Colt on her, and she stopped dead in her tracks and held her hands up.

“Y/N, don’t. Wait. We can talk about this, alright? Like you wanted,” she spoke, the panic clear in her voice as she stared at you with widened eyes.

“Oh, you want to talk now, huh? When _your_ life is on the line? Listen, honey, I’m not one of these dumb bitches that wastes time chatting with the villain. I just kill them,” you replied as you took the safety off and pulled the trigger without a second thought. Everything seemed to go in slow motion after that as you watched the bullet fly through the air and through Amel’s skull. The hole sizzled and Amel’s inside seemed to burst into flames before she dropped to the floor.

You exhaled in relief, holding your stomach where the fresh blood soaked your babydoll. While you felt like a huge badass for what you’d just done, you couldn’t celebrate right now. Your mind immediately went to freeing Dean, and so you headed back to the room he was being kept in, shooting every demon you came across on the way – including the ones you’d incapacitated, knowing they would get up eventually and not wanting to risk anything now you had your chance of freedom.

You limped into the room, trying to hold yourself together as you did. Dean’s face lit up when he saw you, with a mixture of emotion; relief, happiness, worry. He knew you were hurt; knew Amel had done _something_ to you, but just didn’t know how bad it was.

“Are you okay? What did she do to you?”

“That doesn’t matter now. She’s dead. Thanks to someone bringing this fantastic firearm in,” you replied as you held up the Colt to him, shooting Dean as much of a smile you could as you grabbed the key from the table for his cuffs. Boy, you were glad demons were so ignorant as to leave the one thing you needed to get out of your restraints just _out_ like that. Stupid assholes.

Dean dropped to his feet once he was released, his instant reaction to wrap his arms around you and pull you in for the tightest hug you’d ever received. It knocked the wind right out of you, and you let out a faint whimper as he squeezed your sore bits. He pulled away almost instantly and looked down at you worriedly.

“Shit, sorry. Did I hurt you? C’mon, we need to get you to a hospital.”

All you could do was nod before he scooped you up into his arms and carried you bridal style down the hallway, towards the exit. You hoped all the demons were truly dead because you definitely didn’t have the strength to help if the two of you were attacked on the way out.

As you headed back up to the main part of the warehouse, you bumped into Bobby and Sam at front doors.

“Y/N! Are you okay? What happened?” Sam asked, noticeably flustered.

“I’m fine, Sam. Just Amel trying to make me infertile is all.”

Sam’s face scrunched up, as if he were disturbed by the statement. You laughed. “She’s dead, though. I’ll tell you everything when we get away from this shithole.”

Sam nodded and followed you and Dean out of the warehouse. He apologised the whole way to Dean’s car about how he was so late and wasn’t there to help – but also blamed Dean for speeding off with the only vehicle they had, therefore forcing Sam to ask Bobby to pick him up before they could even start their journey to you.

“Hey, if you’d just come with me like I said—” Dean started, although you really couldn’t deal with the bickering at that point.

“—boys, please. I don’t want to hear it. It’s done.”

They both nodded, and you could hear Bobby chuckling behind you as you got to the Impala. Dean placed you in the back so you could lay down, while Sam got into the passenger’s seat and Bobby got in his own car to follow behind.

The journey to the hospital was quick. You got the same doctor from before, and he definitely looked concerned at the fact you were being carried in wearing extremely raunchy lingerie, covered in new injuries and blood, but didn’t question it either way, which you appreciated.

You had to get new stitches in your leg, along with some in your stomach, lip, and cheek. Over the few days you were in the ward being monitored by the doctor for infection, bruises started to appear all over your body from the manhandling and chain restraints. But you couldn’t complain either way. You were alive, Dean was alive, and Amel was dead. You could sleep happily knowing you were safe.

Well, safe for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's a short one today, but hopefully you enjoyed it nonetheless! leave a comment and lemme know what you thought ;)
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	11. Back to Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short one today! hope to have more for you soon, lovelies!
> 
> p.s. happy 40k+ words! we hit it last chapter which I forgot to point out, and it actually blows my mind that this fic has turned into like... a novel. oops!

You spent a few days in the hospital. Dean didn’t leave your side, despite Sam and Bobby’s attempts to get him to sleep in a real bed. Fortunately, you were awake for most of your time there, unlike last time where you slept through most of it. Your pain wasn’t as bad – there was just a lot of different types this time, and they all seemed to balance each other out. It was nice, spending time with Dean, just the two of you most of the time.

You still hadn’t really spoke about what happened before you were kidnapped. It was a subject neither of you wanted to discuss, but by the third day you were there, you knew you had to bring it up at some point. So, you took the plunge.

“Dean, I want you to know… what I said to you before all this happened; don’t feel like you need to return the feeling. I just… it _is_ how I feel, and I wanted to be honest with you, but… if you don’t feel the same I understand,” you spoke quietly and honestly, holding his hand as you did.

Dean watched you, a small smile creeping onto his lips by the time you’d finished talking. He shook his head. “Y/N, no… that’s not how it is at all. Listen, I feel _so_ awful for what I did. I should have never walked out on you like that, especially when you were brave enough to open up to me,” he started, moving his chair a little closer to your bedside so he could grasp your hand with both of his, rubbing your bruised knuckles gently. “I feel the same. I really do. But I was… just _so_ scared of losing you that the easiest thing to do in that moment was to run. I wasn’t brave enough like you were to just say it back. But Y/N, I really do love you. More than I’ve loved anyone in my life.”

His words made your whole-body fill with tingles, your lips pursing together as you tried to control the grin spreading across your cheeks. You couldn’t – you smiled so hard that it hurt your wound, but you didn’t care. “You have no idea how relieving that is to hear.”

Dean chuckled and grinned back at you, the way his eyes twinkled as he did make your heart flutter. “You’d be crazy to think I didn’t love you back, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just panicked thinking about how hard it would be to lose you if that ever happened, but if it means I get to love you until that happens – if it happens, which hopefully it will never – then I’ll take that risk. A thousand times over.”

You let out a relieved laugh, leaning over to Dean to press your lips to his, ignoring the sting from the cut on your lip. You pulled away briefly after that and just looked at him. Took in his features in the moment, one you’d remember for the rest of your life.

“Come here,” you instructed as you patted the mattress, scooting over as best as you could to make space for Dean to join you. Dean nodded and hopped onto the bed beside you, slipping under the covers with you and pulling you into his embrace. His movements were careful so he wouldn’t hurt you, but even though you still felt some pain as you entered Dean’s arms, the feeling of being there overwhelmed any of your pain.

You buried your face into his chest and simply breathed him in. You savoured every smell, every touch that you could while you were back with him and swore to yourself that you never wanted to leave him again. You wanted to be by his side for as long as you lived, and you knew that while your job put that at risk, you were willing to fight for it. Besides, the two of you were destiny after all, and while you never thought you were meant for anything in this world, you definitely knew you were meant to be with Dean.

* * *

The doctor signed you off a few days after that. You were sent away with a plethora of pain medication and antibiotics, along with a stash of fresh bandages and ointments to keep your wounds clean.

The boys took you to Bobby’s house once you were released. You’d been there a few times before, but never took the time to really get a tour of it all. It was a pretty kick-ass spot to be, especially when the place was littered with sweet cars to admire and picture how they would look like if they had been fixed up when you were bored.

You and Dean stayed in the spare bedroom, while Sam took the living room sofa-bed. You offered your bed to Sam a million times a day, considering his back still gave him some aches and pain from your first run in with Amel, but he would refuse each time, insisting that you needed it more than him.

It was nice to just live alongside the brothers and Bobby, without the stress of hunting interfering – although you knew they were missing it by the time the second month had passed. You and Dean were doing great, too. Sure, you had a few quarrels back and forth, but for the most part, just living like a normal couple was amazing. And although you still had issue with your leg, the sex was _fantastic_ , although you had to keep it quiet for the sake of your housemates. Didn’t want them to be _totally_ traumatised.

It was a Sunday morning when the four of you were sat in Bobby’s living room, relaxing and doing your own things. You were fiddling with your phone, Bobby and Sam were discussing some sort of lore thing from the books they were reading, and Dean was watching TV. It was… too quiet, for your liking.

“Alright, I’ve had it,” you announced, slapping your seat as you stood up, pointing at the three of them, “you boys need to get back to hunting. I can’t deal with the deafening _peace_ in here. It’s too boring.”

Dean’s face lit up excitedly, but Bobby and Sam weren’t convinced.

“What? Y/N, no. We agreed no hunting until you’re better,” Sam responded, placing his book on the table in front of him.

“Right, and I’ll still be healing here, but you guys can go out without me. I _know_ you’re dying for a hunt. You and Bobby have been reading the same books for weeks now, Sam, and if Dean watches any more soap opera I’m scared we’ll lose him to the drama forever. Get out there and kick some monster ass, for Christ’s sake!”

The boys paused and looked at each other, before springing into action seconds later; Sam rushing for his laptop, Bobby grabbing the nearest newspaper and Dean rushing for his weapons duffel bag. You smirked to yourself and sat down, crossing your leg over the other and grabbing your phone again. It was nice to have some life back in the house.

They quickly found a case a state over from your location, a simple ghost haunting. A milk run, really. Dean gave you a, what seemed to be, five-minute hug before he even set foot out the door, repeatedly telling you to call him if you needed anything. Sam said the same, but simply gave you a pat on the shoulder before he left. Bobby decided to stay with you in case you needed help with anything, and so he could cover anything the boys needed too.

You watched Sam and Dean pull out of the driveway and out of Bobby’s property, before roaring off into the distance. You smiled, happy knowing they were happy, but now you had to find something to do to keep yourself busy.

You insisted on helping Bobby on cleaning up the place, but he refused to let you do anything physically exerting, so you ended up cleaning the kitchen, something that would only require minimal movement at most; the dishes, wiping off the bunkers and throwing out any old food from the fridge and cupboards. It didn’t take you long, but you were definitely tired by the end of it. You took a seat at the kitchen dining table with a glass of water when Bobby came in a few moments later.

He paused and looked at you, a concerned expression on his face. “Are you okay, kid? You don’t look great.”

“I’m fine, Bobby. Just a little exhausted. I’ll be good after this,” you replied, referring to the drink in your hands.

“Well, if you need anything, just lemme know.”

Bobby grabbed a beer from the fridge and cracked it open with a bottle opener. You usually weren’t particularly sensitive to smells, but the whiff of alcohol you got from Bobby’s beer made your stomach churn, making you queasy so quickly that you found yourself rushing to the kitchen sink and emptying the contents of your stomach into it. Bobby watched the whole thing, rushing to your side and holding your hair back when he realised what was happening.

Once you’d finished, he handed you a paper towel to wipe your mouth wish, and helped you back over to the chair you’d been sitting in. As you took your seat, you tried to regulate your breathing. God, you _hated_ puking.

“You okay, kid?”

You looked over at Bobby and nodded, giving him a faint smile. “I’m fine… just a little worn down I think. I think I might go take a nap.”

Bobby nodded. “Here, lemme help you get to bed.”

You allowed Bobby to slink his arm under your shoulders, letting you use him as leverage so you didn’t have to apply too much pressure to your leg. He guided through the house to the guest bedroom and helped you onto the bed when you got there. He disappeared for a second afterwards to return with a fresh glass of water and a bucket, just in case you turned green again.

“Thank you, Bobby. I appreciate the help.”

“No worries, Y/N. I’ll go call Dean and let him know you’re not feeling goo—”

“—no! Bobby. Please, don’t do that. I don’t want to distract him on a hunt. It’s just a little tummy upset, nothing major. I’ll be fine. Please don’t tell him.”

Bobby nodded understandingly. “Alright, I won’t. Shout on me if you need anything.”

You smiled as he left, before you slipped under the blankets in bed and soon fell into a sleep. Apparently you needed it because you slept all through the night. Who’da thought cleaning would take so much out of you?

* * *

Sam and Dean returned from the hunt a few days after he left, and Dean practically sprinted over to you when you appeared at the front door to greet them. He picked you up, spun you around and held you tightly, pressing a passionate kiss on your lips as if he’d been away from you for months.

“Nice to see you too, Dean,” you joked with a giggle after he put you down, still holding onto you.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

He grinned and planted another kiss onto your lips.

“I hate to break up this little love-fest, but maybe we should help your brother in with the bags?” Bobby interrupted after clearing his throat, pointing at Sam who kept dropping the bags they’d packed for the road.

Dean huffed and let you go, returning to the car to take a couple of bags from Sam. He hauled them into the house, dumped them in the hall by the front door, and then came right back to your side.

“How you been, hm? How’s the leg? Your face? You been good?” he questioned, face as innocent as a curious puppy dog as he cupped your cheeks gently.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his interrogation. “I’ve been fine, Dean. Just been helping Bobby around the house and resting.”

“Good. That’s good to hear. I was worried you wouldn’t be okay while I was gone.”

“Who do you think I am, Winchester? I’ve had worse injuries than this while I was on the road alone; I can definitely manage on my own.”

Dean gave you a smile. “I know. I just worry.”

You chuckled. “Well, don’t. I’m a tough girl. I can look after myself.”

“Yeah you are.” There was a suggestive tone in his voice and the matching smirk on his lips that made your insides quiver. _God, how could he be so sexy within seconds of sounding like a worried mother?_

“Hm… you got that right.”

You shot him a flirty smirk and he let out a playful growl, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for another kiss.

As Sam passed the two of you, he rolled his eyes. “Get a room, you two.”

You broke away from the kiss and looked lustfully at Dean. “Good idea, don’tcha think?”

A devilish grin spread across Dean’s cheeks before he quickly scooped you up and practically sprinted to the guest bedroom with you in his arms. You giggled the whole way there, slamming the door shut before Dean pounced on you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! i know i say this like every chapter, but it means the world to me to have people reading my stuff and commenting/kudos'ing - it really keeps me motivated to write which is a really helpful outlet for me at this point, so i appreciate every one of you for taking the time to come along on this little journey with me <3
> 
> much love <3
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)! (p.s. feel free to chat to me on there, too, if ya'd like!)


	12. Fruition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo! it's me, back again with another chapter. this one is kinda... huge. in terms of drama i mean. buckle up!

The boys continued their weekly hunts, most of them going smoothly with only a few hiccups along the way. You continued to heal, your leg getting better with each day, but there was just something that didn’t feel right of late. Whenever you ate, you felt queasy. Whenever you drank, you felt queasy. Whenever you moved, you felt queasy. You blamed the medication you’d been taking – it was probably like a cocktail of drugs in your stomach whenever you took them all – but still, there was only so much vomiting someone could do before they wanted to find out _why_ they were doing it, and Dean seemed to agree, after he caught you sneaking out of the bathroom one morning after having very obviously having done the deed.

“Y/N… this is the fourth morning in a row you’ve snuck away to puke. I think you should maybe see a doctor or something,” he spoke sleepily as you climbed back into bed with him.

“No, Dean. I’m fine. It’s just my meds, alright?”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks now. Maybe your meds aren’t right for you?”

“Bit late for change now. I’ve been on them for my leg for ages, and they’ve been okay up until recently. I can deal with them for a few more weeks.”

He mumbled something under his breath, letting out a grumpy exhale as he turned over in bed, facing away from you. You hated it when he got like this; like a child throwing a tantrum, one you just couldn’t ignore.

With a sigh, you turned over to face him. “Alright, I’ll go to the doctor.”

Dean turned over again. “Good. I’ll come with.”

“No, Dean, you’re hunting tomorrow. Let’s just spend the day together and I’ll have gone by the time you come back.”

Dean shot you a small glare but nodded anyway. He couldn’t really argue against spending time with you, not when he’d be away for the next few days. He reached over for you in bed and pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to yours sweetly. You relaxed almost instantly, enjoying his touch and kisses, and pushing the thought of going to a doctor to the back of your mind.

* * *

You said your farewells to Sam and Dean as they headed out on another hunt. It was the same routine every time – you and Dean would spend some quality time together the day before, they would get up early, and you would wave them goodbye. You’d keep in contact with Dean over text – sometimes very naughty ones if either of you were feeling particularly lonely – and it had been good.

But now, all Dean’s texts were filled with ‘have you made your appointment yet?’ ‘when are you going?’ ‘Y/N, just call the doctor!’ and you got sick of it pretty quickly, so you gave in. You called, made the appointment for the morning after they left, and that was that. God, Dean really was like a worried mother sometimes, and while it was sweet, it seriously got on your nerves when you were trying not to think about it.

You tried to make yourself as presentable as you could when you were getting ready for your appointment. You had mostly been in pyjamas or sweatpants the past few months since you had no need to really leave the house and couldn’t put a lot of pressure on your leg for too long, so you stuck to baggy clothing that wouldn’t touch the wound. But now, you had to make some sort of effort.

You decided on a sundress you found tucked away in the bottom of your bag – at least with a dress it wouldn’t touch your wound, and it was still long enough to hide the bandages. Your bruising had cleared up, too, so showing a bit of skin wasn’t the end of the world on the sunny day that it was.

You slipped on a pair of flip-flops and made your way to Bobby’s car, who had insisted on taking you to the doctor so he could help you in and out of the place. The doctor’s office wasn’t far from Bobby’s house – only about a ten-minute drive or so, and it was nice to get out of the house. Bobby helped you out of the car and lead you up to the reception desk within the building, and then lead you to the waiting area. You were starting to think you should have maybe received some sort of walking stick or something from the hospital, so you made a mental note to ask the doctor while you were in there.

You waited for about ten minutes before your name was called by the doctor, and you hobbled your way into his office with him, leaving Bobby waiting in the waiting area, and took a seat in the chair opposite his desk. As he sat down, he flashed you a charming smile, before starting his usual spiel; How are you doing? What brings you here today?

You, firstly, mentioned your leg, wondering if he could give it a look over to see if it was healing well, which he did. Your leg was doing great, he confirmed, and should be better within a couple months! You were glad about that, at least. You then mentioned your consistent tummy upsets, and how you spent most of your mornings hugging your toilet seat, triggered by the smallest of things. You told him how you thought it was maybe your medication, but he seemed to have other ideas.

“Are you sexually active, Y/N?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed, confused by why he’d want to know that. “Well, yeah…”

“And do you use contraception?”

“Yes. I’m on the pill, why?”

“Let me just have a look at your medication history…”

You watched as the doctor swivelled around in his chair, pulling up your medical records on his computer and seeing what medication the hospital had prescribed you for your injuries. He quietly spoke to himself, muttering things you couldn’t understand properly because of how lowly he was speaking, but then he turned back around with a smile.

“Okay, Miss. Y/N. I don’t want you to panic, but I think you’ll need to take a pregnancy test for me.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your face. What? No… surely not.

“What!? B-but… I’m on the pill—”

“—yes, and that’s great that you _are_ using contraception, but unfortunately the hospital failed to tell you that the antibiotics they prescribed you would essentially cancel out the effects of your pill.”

You felt sick. Not the type of queasiness you’d been feeling recently, but sick with dread. Holy shit. You can’t have a baby – not now. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

The doctor handed you a vile for a urine test and showed you where the women’s bathroom was. You followed his instructions, but as you stepped into the cubicle, you started to panic. _Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. Dean is going to fucking freak! Shh, shh, Y/N. It’s okay. Maybe you’re not pregnant,_ you tried to convince yourself, _maybe this is just a scare. Let’s just… do the test, then we can clear everything up._

And so, you did. You managed to pee into the little tube – with great difficulty, that is, considering it was so frickin’ small you missed it a few times – and then returned back to the doctor after washing your hand, handing him over the sample and watching him as he dipped a little strip into it.

It was the longest few minutes of your life. You went back and forth, trying to tell yourself you weren’t pregnant, that it was just your meds, then totally spiralling the other way and freaking out telling yourself you _were_ pregnant and that your so-called _destiny_ was about to come true.

And when the doctor announced your results, your worst fear was confirmed.

“P-positive? And you’re 100% sure?” you stuttered, your hands shaking as you looked over at the doctor with terror in your eyes.

“Yes, Miss. Y/N. These tests are the most accurate you can take. I take it it’s not a planned pregnancy then? We do have other options for that, should you wish to look into it.”

You ignored him. Your brain seemed to cancel out any other noise in the room other than the sound of your heartbeat going 100mph, thumping loudly in your ears. You were breathing heavily, starting to hyperventilate, clutching the armrests of your chair with such force that your nails broke the leather coating. The doctor noticed this and handed you a paper bag, telling you to take deep, slow breaths.

Once you’d calmed down, he returned to his seat and looked at you sympathetically. “Y/N, it’s okay. We’ll be here to support you throughout this journey, should you wish to continue. We can give you resources of other supportive networks, too. Do you have any family you can go to for help?”

You nodded, your mind going back to Dean. You didn’t know how he was going to take this. How _any_ of them would take this. Hunters didn’t have kids, that’s just not how the job worked. And yes, you knew that was _supposed_ to be your calling in life, but you expected it to be when you were older, settled down and not hunting anymore. Not now. Fuck.

You stood up and looked at the doctor. “I’m sorry, doc. I need to leave. Thank you for your help.”

“Remember, Y/N, just pick up the phone if you need help.”

You headed for the door, walking straight past Bobby in the waiting room who only noticed you leave when he heard the bell above the door _ding_ as you exited the building. He followed you quickly to his car, noticing you were visibly upset when he caught up.

“Y/N? What happened?” he asked, placing a comforting hand on the back of your shoulder.

By this point, you had tears streaming down your face and your sobs were uncontrollable. As Bobby touched your shoulder, you spun around and nearly knocked him over when you threw yourself into his arms for a hug. It wasn’t in your nature just to _hug_ people, but you needed it right now. You needed some sort of physical comfort to help you through this.

“Shh, shh; it’s alright, Y/N. What’s up, sweetheart?” Bobby spoke soothingly, gently strong your hair as he held you in his arms.

“I fucked up, Bobby,” you blurted through your sniffles. You pulled away from Bobby’s hug and tried to wipe your tears from your puffy, reddened cheeks. You felt like a fool. “Dean’s going to hate me.”

“What? Dean would never hate you.”

“N-no, you don’t understand. Bobby… I’m—I’m _pregnant._ The doctor just told me. Dean’s going to leave as soon as I tell him.”

Bobby’s eyes widened slightly at the news, visibly swallowing as he took a minute to take in what you’d just told him. “Listen, Y/N. I know Dean, and I know he’d never run away from you again, especially with his kid in your belly. Trust me, you’ll be fine. We’ll all help you through this.”

Your breathing was still all over the place as you tried to calm yourself down, your tears subsiding as you sniffed them away, wiping the last of your tears from your eyes as you nodded at Bobby’s words.

“C’mon, let’s get you home. We can figure out our next move away from this place, alright?”

You followed Bobby’s lead and got into the car. He sped home, wanting to get you somewhere comfortable quickly, and helped you to your room so you could change. You sat on your bed for a good twenty minutes, just staring at the ceiling, not moving at all. You were sort of numb at this point, exhausted from your outburst of emotion, and all you wanted to do was cuddle up in Dean’s arms and fall asleep. But you knew things would be different when Dean got home. It would all be different.

Bobby found you asleep on top of the blankets a half hour later when he checked on you. He pulled the blankets over you to stop you getting cold and left you to it afterwards, hoping a nap would help you out after receiving news you just had.

You woke about at around 6:30pm. Bobby was nowhere to be seen – probably went out for some food or something, and so you took advantage of the peacefulness of the house while you had it to yourself. You changed into your pyjamas, since you didn’t get a chance to before you fell asleep and headed to the kitchen. However, before you could even make it there, you stopped dead in your tracks in front of one of Bobby’s larger mirrors in the hallway. You took in the image of yourself; your leg, still bandaged up and unsightly, your face; left with minor scabbed-over lacerations from Amel’s nasty blows, and your stomach, now the home of _someone else_ and covered in wounds from her scalpel. You wondered if Amel had cut into you if she’d find the little creature in there already… but you shook those awful thoughts out of your head almost as soon as they entered, although it did make you realise you didn’t know how far along you were.

You turned to the side and stroked your belly. Now that you knew what to look for, you could see a small bump present. Any other day you would have thought it was gas or a food baby, but now… you knew exactly what was in there. You stroked the bump gently, your throat getting tight as a lump formed in it and a single tear fell from your eyes. This was yours to protect now. Not Dean, not Sam or Bobby; _yours_. You had to feed it, give it what it needed to grow, and make sure it made it to the end, no matter what anybody said.

You suddenly stopped feeling so down about the whole situation. This was your chance to really do something with your life, and hey, if it was already written in the stars that this was to happen, why not happy when you’re fit, able and young?

With that, you continued hobbling to the kitchen with a smile now habituating your lips, and you grabbed yourself a snack to celebrate.

* * *

You were nervous when you heard the roar of the Impala pull up to Bobby’s house this time. Normally, it shot great excitement through you knowing Dean was returning home, but this time it just made you anxious. Yet, you still met him at the door, allowing him to pull you into his strong arms and place a big ol’ kiss on your lips.

“How was the hunt?” you asked with a small smile on your lips.

“Great. Although, Sammy nearly got his ass kicked by a _kid_ , and it was hilarious,” Dean replied with a mischievous grin.

“Hey, that’s not how it happened, Dean. The kid was possessed by a demon and managed to get the drop on me, alright?” Sam added as he shook his head at his older brother.

“Totally nearly got whooped by a demon kid. Hilarious.”

You giggled at Dean’s childish humour, shaking your head as you took him inside.

“How have you been? Feeling better since going to the doc’s office?” he asked as the two of you walked back to your room with Dean’s bag of clothes. As you entered the room, he chucked the duffel on the bed and started sorting through the dirty stuff.

“Uh, yeah… yeah I am.”

It had been a few days since your doctor’s visit and you hadn’t said much about it to Dean, only that the doctor said it was fine, just a stomach bug and it would pass soon enough. Dean seemed to stop asking about it after that, fortunately for you.

“You sure about that?” he questioned with a brow perked up questioningly. “You don’t look sure.”

You took a deep breath and sat down on the bed, pushing Dean’s duffel over so he could sit down too. You patted the spot next to you. “Sit, Dean. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in concern, but he followed your instruction anyway and took your hand as he sat down by your side.

“I did go to the doctor’s office. They checked my leg, said it was fine, and then I mentioned the sickness. He started asking me a few questions; what meds the doc at the hospital gave me, whether I was sexually active, whether I used contraception or not…”

“Wait, wait – what? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Basically, the doctor told me that the antibiotics the doctor at the hospital gave me was cancelling out my contraceptive pill…”

“And?”

You looked up at Dean, a hint of fear in your eyes, “Dean… I took a pregnancy test. It was positive.”

You saw Dean visibly swallow down hard and his whole body tense up. His face was emotionless, but his eyes told the whole story. They filtered through a plethora of emotions: shock, panic, anger, worry, then… nothing.

“Dean? Baby, speak to me.”

“I… I’m just trying to process everything, Y/N.”

You were scared he was going to run away again, like he’d done when you told him you loved him, but you could see he was fighting the urge to do that, like he promised you he would. You allowed him the silence the needed to think through things in his head, and finally, after moments of painful quiet, he spoke.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” you repeated cautiously.

“This is… this is okay,” he started. “We can work through this. I mean… like Amel said, it’s kind-of our job to make babies, right? It was going to happen eventually.”

Your whole seemed to breathe again, as if you were holding your breath the whole time Dean spoke, the relief washing through your body when he seemed to be fine with the whole thing.

“I know… I know it’s a little _sooner_ than either of us probably expected, but… we can do this, Dean. This… little _being_ ; we’ll raise it well, give it everything it needs, keep it safe. Give it a life we never had. And if it wants to become a hunter, we’ll be there every step of the way,” you explained as you pulled your shirt over your belly, showing Dean the vague outline of your tiny bump. Dean’s eyes lit up as he turned his body to face you, his hands pressing gently on your belly.

He looked up at you as he did this and smiled. “There’s nobody else I’d rather have a family with than you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but tear up a little at his words, overjoyed that the whole thing had gone so well. You’d been worrying for days, and for nothing. Dean’s reaction was better than any you had imagined, and you could only be grateful for that. You leaned forward and pressed your lips tenderly against his, his hands reaching up to clasp your face affectionately, holding you close as you exchanged a passionate kiss.

* * *

You helped Dean unpack the rest of his stuff, throwing his dirty clothes in the wash before the two of you decided to sit down Bobby and Sam and share the big news. Of course, Bobby knew, but Sam was left in the dark and the four of you had to figure out how they would go about this new revelation.

“Wow… a baby,” Sam stated once you’d announced your news, eyes widening a little as he tried to process the news. “Congratulations, I guess? Guess Amel really was right.”

“C’mon, Sammy. Be a little more excited than that, dude. You’re gonna be an uncle!” Dean encouraged as he nudged Sam with his elbow.

“I’m happy for you guys. I really am. But I just can’t help but feel a little nervous about the environment you’re bringing a baby into.”

“It’s fine, Sam. According to Amel, this baby will be the best hunter there is. It’ll be fine.”

“I know… but that’s as an adult. What happens when word gets out that you’ve just given birth to the ‘world’s best hunter’? It’ll be a witch hunt.”

You hadn’t thought of it that way. Damnit, Sam, always gotta be the smart one in the room.

“It’s fine,” you simply said, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, we protect it while it’s in here.” You rested your hands on your belly and gently rubbed your bump. “We’ll worry about the rest later.”

The others agreed with your statement, and for the rest of the day the baby was all they wanted to talk about. Where will we put the nursery? Bobby thought we should convert the downstairs bathroom into one; it was big enough and easily done. Sam and Dean spoke about how the Impala wasn’t technically a ‘family car’, but quickly you chimed in to defend the car before Dean could even open his mouth to defend it; the car was definitely too beautiful to get rid of for a shitty family car, which earned you a kiss from him. Dean also started talking about names, coming up with all sorts of names based off of famous classic rockstars, which you had to admit were pretty awesome and you definitely wouldn’t be opposed to.

Overall, the day was surprisingly good. Everyone went to bed feeling good, excited for the journey they had ahead while your baby grew, and that made you feel amazing.

As you and Dean finally settled into bed, he spent the whole time spooning you with his hands on your stomach. The action was simple but meant everything to you. Dean obviously cared about the life growing inside of you, and to think that you would have him supporting you every minute of the journey eased any doubt you had in your mind. You were genuinely excited to create your own little family and looked forward doing it with Dean by your side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooooh fuck! look at that. the prophecy has already begun, and a lot of you guessed that reader was pregnant last chapter - so congrats on being correct!
> 
> shit is about to get real. y'all are probably gonna hate me, honestly, but... how what sort of writer would i be if i just let things be happy for more than a few chapters? pft. that's not what you guys signed up for, obviously ;)
> 
> stay tuned for more! and thank you so much for reading! <3
> 
> my [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	13. What Comes Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do apologise for what's about to happen... except, not really. sorry not sorry! i'm a sadist when it comes to my writing and i just can't let these bbs be happy for too long. >:)
> 
> enjoy!

_Four Months Later_

Being pregnant was a lot harder than you had expected, you’d discovered; especially now your bump was more prominent now you had hit the five-month mark. You could barely do basic things without getting tired out too easily, and your hormones were driving you up the wall. Not to mention the _cravings_. The amount of time you forced Dean to run to the store for peanut butter and pickles was a little cruel, but you couldn’t control yourself when your urges were that strong. Even if it was at 3am. Yep, that definitely happened a few times.

Still, Dean had been really supportive throughout it all, helping you with whatever you needed, whenever you needed it, no questions asked. A lot of the time it was scratching a part of your body you couldn’t reach or getting you things, so you didn’t have to get up, but it was the little things that made the difference.

Fortunately, your leg had finally healed up. You were still left with some scabbing and it was going to leave a _nasty_ scar, but at least now you could walk consistently without a limp or any pain at all. Because of this, you now had a little more freedom to go where you wanted, which, on this particular day, included the grocery store.

You and Bobby made the trip in the car and both of you headed into the convenience store once you’d parked up. It was quiet – not even any sign of a cashier to be seen, but you just assumed they were doing something through the back, so you continued shopping.

You picked up the basics: bread, milk, eggs, some vegetables, some fruits, a few ingredients for basic meals and a few snacks for when you got hungry, including your staple craving food, pickles and peanut butter. You even grabbed Dean a couple of pies, making sure it was ones you liked too (so you could steal some) before adding it to your basket. You finished off your shopping after grabbing some pre-natal vitamins and then headed to the checkout with it all.

You waited a couple of minutes for the cashier to appear, but nobody ever did. You turned to look over at Bobby, wondering what the hell was happening.

“Bobby? Why’s it so quiet?” you called out to him, your brows furrowing as you spoke.

Bobby looked over at you and paused, noticing the strange silence within the store. “I… don’t know.”

You started to hear someone stirring in the back rooms behind the checkout, and you suddenly felt a little worried about what was happening.

“Bobby, I think we should maybe leave…”

“I agree, let’s get out of here.”

You both turned and walked towards the exit, but just as you were about to grab the handle of the door, the store shutters slammed down forcefully, forcing you to jump back and almost fall over. You started to panic, your breathing becoming very unstable in fear of what was happening.

“Bobby…”

“Stay close. Don’t stray from me. Call Dean, _now.”_

You nodded and pulled out your cell phone, speed-foaling Dean and holding your phone up to your ear while it rang.

“Hey, good lookin’, what’s cook—”

“—Dean, Bobby and I are at the convenience store and there’s something going on. The shutters just closed, and we’re trap—”

Suddenly, your phone was pulled from your ear and thrown across the room, smashing to bits against the freezer units. You gasped as this happened, looking over at the checkout to see a cloaked figure appearing behind it.

You couldn’t see who it was, but as the figure started laughing as he emerged from the shadows, you knew you definitely didn’t recognise him. Although, he seemed to know you.

“Don’t bother asking for help, Y/N,” the stranger said, his voice low and gruff, sending a shiver up your spine. “Dean won’t be able to find you where I’m taking you.”

“You stay the hell away from her, ya hear?” warned Bobby, stepping between you and the stranger. You desperately tried to process his face, but his hood covered most of his features and darkened his face.

“How charming, but this is between her and I, old man.”

With a flick of the stranger’s wrist, Bobby was thrown across the room, meeting the same fate as your phone and crashing into the freezer units, knocking him out instantly.

“Bobby!” you shrieked, rushing towards him but being stopped in your tracks by an invisible force. You turned your head to the stranger, and he seemed to be the one holding you in place. You glared at him, before being dropped to your knees as the stranger came out from the cashier desk and walked slowly towards you.

“Now, Y/N, let’s not waste any time here. I’ve got somewhere _exciting_ to take you. I think you’ll like it.”

With a click of his fingers, you were teleported on the spot. You were still on your knees when you arrived at this mysterious location, and when you finally opened your eyes to take in your surroundings, you wish you never had. It was the most horrendous sight you’d ever seen, making your skin crawl instantly and your stomach churn. You wish you’d never gone grocery shopping.

** DEAN’S POV **

“Damnit!” Dean exclaimed as he threw his phone across the room in frustration after the line went dead on your side of the call.

“What happened, Dean?” Sam asked as he rushed over to his brother.

“It’s Y/N and Bobby. They’re in trouble. We need to get to that convenience store before it’s too late.”

They made then drive there quickly, but by the time they got there they discovered they _were_ too late. There was no sign of you when they broke through the front door and metal shutters; only finding Bobby knocked unconscious against the freezers by your smashed phone and a dead cashier hiding in the back room of the store.

Dean could barely contain his rage, slamming his fists into the shelving units angrily and splitting his knuckles open almost instantly. Sam tried to intervene, but Dean was inconsolable and couldn’t be calmed down at that moment. Not only were you in danger, but his child was too, and for Dean – losing you both would kill him, and he just couldn’t let that happen. He would hunt day and night to find you. He didn’t need to eat; he didn’t need to sleep. He just needed to find you.

* * *

_A Month Later_

Dean had snapped.

He and Sam had been searching high and low for you for four weeks now and still found no clue as to where you were. They knew you were definitely taken by a demon – the presence of sulphur at the convenience store confirmed that – and also figured it had to do with Amel. Was she back already? Maybe Duchesses if Hell had priority in the revival queue. Or maybe it was Daddy Duke who had taken you to get his revenge, or one of their many children? Either way, it wasn’t good.

Dean was a mess. He barely showered, slept or ate consistently nowadays. In fact, the only thing he actively put inside his body was whisky and beer every night as he scoured over the lore for clues.

They called in the help of Castiel, too. The angel popped in a few days after Dean had left him a drunken voicemail practically begging for his help. Castiel quickly got to work trying to find as much information he could from other angels and any demon he could get his hands on.

Sam and Dean had the same idea, too. They would capture demons, take them back to Bobby’s house and trap them inside a Devil’s trap, interrogating them for any information they knew about your whereabouts. Most of them refused to tell, whether they genuinely knew or not, and they would die for that; either at the hands of Sam, who disposed of them quickly, or Dean, slowly and painfully, just in case they wanted to spill any information before he sent their asses back to hell.

Bobby and Sam noticed Dean’s decline worsening by the day. They would try their best to put food in front of him to try and entice him to eat, tell him he stank the house out to get him to shower when the stench became unbearable, but they knew he wouldn’t truly take care of himself until he got you back.

It was a Tuesday night when Dean stepped out of his fortnightly shower, dripping wet as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He hated being alone nowadays; couldn’t stand to look in the mirror as it just reminded him of how alone he was without you there, and again, how he’d managed to lose you.

But he paused as he caught sight of himself in the mirror that night. His eyes were bloodshot from the constant research he’d been doing lately, dark bags decorating his under eyes too. He’d let his beard grow out and his hair, and he was barely recognisable at this point, especially with his sunken cheekbones from lack of food over the past few weeks. He had truly spiralled into a dark place, and he wanted nothing more than to find you so he could go back to normal again. At this rate, though, he wasn’t sure he would ever see you again.

** READER’S POV **

You didn’t know how long you’d been away for – there didn’t seem to be a clear concept of time where they’d been keeping you.

There wasn’t a day you didn’t go through tremendous pain. They seemed to find something new to do to you that would set fire to your pain receptors everyday, but you refused to let them show how much it hurt, although you weren’t sure if you would be able to last much longer.

The familiar figure of the stranger from the convenience store woke you up by splashing ice water on your face that day. Your body shook in shock as you were pulled out of the little slumber you’d managed to get while being bound to an upright torture table for weeks now.

His sinister laugh sent shivers down your spine as he watched you struggle with his rude awakening. “Sleep well?” he purred smugly.

You refused to answer him.

“Y/N, don’t be like this today. You know where your stubbornness gets you.”

“Fuck you, Magnus,” you spat, your eyes darkened with pure hatred for the demon in front of you.

Magnus, as you quickly learned since you’d arrived in one of the deepest torture chambers of Hell, was the Duke of Hell – Amel’s lover and breeding partner – and he definitely wasn’t happy with what you had done to her.

He’d been trying to break you since you got there – torture you in ways you could never imagine. Tried to get the most out of his revenge while he had you. Not that he had any intentions of letting you go - their sole purpose of taking you so far into Hell was that nobody would be able to find you.

“Now, what shall we do today, hm?” Magnus asked, looking up at you bound in front of him, as if you had a choice. There wasn’t a part of your body he hadn’t marked so far – except for your belly.

You see, it seemed like there was some sort of ‘force field’ around your baby bump. You couldn’t describe it, and you had no idea how to explain it, but whenever Magnus or any of his cronies tried to touch your bump, it was like there was some sort of divine intervention that caused anything to touch you there to start burning up.

It was what kept you going through all of this – knowing that someone, or something, was watching over you and your baby and keeping you safe.

Still, that didn’t stop them destroying the rest of your body.

Magnus picked up a pair of pliers from his table of tools. He smirked and admired them before turning to your side, placing the pliers on the end of your thumb. He’d already stripped you from the rest of your fingernails – seemed to be every couple of days he would pull off a new one – and now you were down to only your thumb nail left.

“Is there anything you’d like to try and tell me to make me reconsider taking your last nail?”

He’d been trying to get as much information out of you while he could, offering you respite for the day if you decided to spill the beans. _What made you so special to be a chosen one? Where are the Winchesters staying? What are your plans to do with the baby once it’s born?_ You answered none of it.

You stayed quiet; your jaw clenched as you stared at the wall in front of you. The dungeon you were being kept in was something you definitely couldn’t adjust to. When you first arrived, the sight of the facility they had taken you to profoundly disturbed you to your core. The walls were made of human flesh, it seemed, with the sole purpose of freaking out the victims unfortunate enough to be taken there. There were eyeballs buried within the layers of skin and bone, all watching you as you walked by them, as if they were still alive. Your cell wasn’t any different – the walls coated with body parts and the floor covered in some sort of dried, blood bricks. You could have never imagined such a place even in your worst nightmares, and just hoped that you would be able to escape one day. Although, you had a feeling that you’d never be able to shake the image of this Hellhole even if you did escape it.

Magnus pulled you out of your thoughts when he clamped the pliers down onto your thumb, causing your body to jolt in response.

“Y/N, come on. I don’t like it when you’re quiet. I like it when you’ve got a little fire in your belly, when you fight back. Definitely makes things a lot more fun. Well, for me.”

“Eat shit, Magnus.”

Your voice was cold and emotionless, any energy you’d had before been used to protest the torture but now? You were numb to it all. Sure, it hurt what they did to you; like no other pain you’d ever received, but all you could think about was Dean. What was he doing right now? You hoped he wasn’t taking your disappearance too harshly, but you knew that was probably wrong. Knowing Dean, you assumed he was beating himself up about the whole thing, not taking care of himself at all trying to find you. The thought saddened you deeply, but at least it gave you some modicum of hope that maybe, they would actually find you one day.

Again, a burning pain pulled you from your thoughts as Magnus began forcing the nail from your nail-bed. You squirmed and winced in pain, yet no screams escaped your lips. You were done screaming for Magnus – he’d already done his worst. Or so you thought.

“Ah, playing tough today, are we?” he asked, that same smug look on his face making you want to punch him – and you definitely would if your hands weren’t strapped down to the post you were tied to.

He really got under your skin, Magnus, and he knew it. He would laugh at the way you’d tense your jaw at some of his torments, especially if it involved Dean or the other guys. You tried not to humour him, but sometimes there was only so much you could take as he vividly described how he was going to ‘remove Dean’s skin and wear it as a suit’. Although, that was at the beginning – now, you’d learned how to tune it out.

“Y/N,” he cooed, but you ignored him. He glared at you and saw you were purposely avoiding any interaction with him, and so he quickly brought his hand to your cheek, his knuckles colliding with your jawbone and you swore something cracked.

You were forced to look at him as you tried to regain your composure after that harsh blow, breathing heavily as your gaze shifted to his. You still stayed quiet.

“If I say your name, you answer, you hear? I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but I can see _right_ through that tough demeanour. I know you’re about to break. I just need to find the right button to press in order to get you there…” Magnus hummed, looking at you as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle.

The smirk that slipped onto his lips after that sent a quiver down your body. You could obviously tell he was planning something.

He yelled for a couple of his cronies to come into the room moments later, instructing them to flip you onto your front. You swallowed as you heard this, trying to fight the demons off as they unstrapped you and forcibly flipped you over. Not only was it uncomfortable laying on your pregnant belly, but the way they rebound you to the table meant your arms were tied to the tallest part of the post and your legs were tied spread eagle.

Magnus’ minions left the room, and suddenly you started to worry at what he had in store for you. However, this became evidently clear when he started to remove his belt from the holster.

“Now, I’ll give you another chance. If there’s anything you’d like to say right now that you think might interest me, speak now or forever regret you hadn’t,” Magnus started, slowly walking up to your behind.

You stayed silent again, refusing to give him any intel that could potentially hurt the people you loved. That wasn’t good enough for Magnus.

He quickly cracked the belt against your bare ass cheeks – they’d stripped you of your clothes weeks ago; apparently they just ‘got in the way’ – and your whole body seized up in agony.

“Wait!” you squeaked. “There is something I want to say.”

“I’m listening.”

You took a few deep breaths, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the wooden post you were tied to.

_“Eat shit, Magnus.”_

Magnus let out another very sinister chuckle, before positioning himself to take another swing. “Oh, you’re going to be eating those words soon, dear.”

The last thing you remember was hearing the belt crack against your skin again, the familiar feeling of blood dripping down the back of your thigh the last sensation you remember before you passed out from pain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reader is a toughy, i'll give her that. and now we've met our new antagonist, the duke of hell himself! these monsters and location settings are just made up off the top of my head, not really based off of anything (especially the flesh prison lol), but hopefully they're fitting in nicely!
> 
> lemme know what ya think! and thanks, as always, for reading <3
> 
> feel free to follow my [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	14. Back to Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i took a little longer to update this week! work has been a bitch lately, and i've actually had to socialise again now that's a thing again... unfortunately. i should have a little more time to write this week, so expect more updates!

** DEAN’S POV **

_One Week Later_

Sam, Dean and Bobby were at their wits end. They’d searched high and low for clues as to where you had been taken to. At this point, they weren’t even sure if you would still be alive, yet that didn’t stop them at all.

Sam and Bobby were getting even more worried about Dean, too. The longer he went without you, the more he spiralled into a dark depression. There wasn’t a moment he didn’t have liquor in his system, and he barely took care of his basic needs. Anyone could take one look at Dean and wonder how he was still standing, but Sam and Bobby knew it was his pure determination to find you that kept him going, so they left him to it.

A flutter of wings alerted the boys as Castiel dropped into the Singer residence one Wednesday evening.

“I might have found a clue as to where Y/N has been taken,” he informed, causing everyone to perk up and direct their full attention to him. “There’s word of a human being taken to ‘The Cells’. I’ve had a few confirmations of this from both angels and demons.”

“The Cells? What’s that?” Sam questioned, his brows furrowed at the revelation of something he’d never heard of before.

“I’ve personally never been, nor have very many people, but I believe it’s some sort of prison establishment situated in the furthest depth of Hell. Usually kept especially for corrupted or powerful demons, or imprisoned angels. It’s specifically designed to be not found – most demons aren’t even allowed in unless they’re granted special access by who runs it. According to most demons I interrogated, many claim it’s a myth used by superiors to get their soldiers to cooperate better.”

“And who runs it?” Bobby chimed in.

Castiel paused, glancing over at Dean who was listening, but hadn’t lifted his head yet.

“Magnus, the Duke of Hell.”

There was a deafening silence that fell upon the room. Everyone knew what that meant. If you weren’t already dead, Magnus definitely wasn’t making your time there a nice one, and it was definitely an act of revenge for what you had done to Amel.

“How do we get there?” Dean finally broke the silence, his head still lowered as he picked the skin of his fingernails, voice monotone.

“I’ve found a powerful spell that may get us in. It really depends on how well guarded or warded The Cells are, which I imagine it will be exponentially,” Castiel explained as he pulled a sheet of paper from his trench coat, handing it to Bobby who looked over it.

“I have most of the ingredients here, bar a few,” Bobby spoke, eye studying the words in front of him. “We need a ‘piece of the subject you wish to find’, though. Got any of Y/N’s hair laying around?”

Dean stood up without question and disappeared into your shared room. He searched frantically around your bed linens – which he refused to wash since it still smelled of you – and pure relief washed over him as he found one of your head hairs trapped inside the pillowslip. He returned to the living room, holding up the hair as if it were made of pure gold.

“Let’s get this done, then,” Bobby said, quickly standing up and beginning to collect all the ingredients they would need for the spell.

It was a portal spell, similar to the one Dean had to go through in the warehouse Amel held you in, although it wasn’t guaranteed it would work. Regardless, it was all they had, and so they had to try.

Bobby threw the ingredients into a bowl, including your strand of hair, instructing all those who wished to go to add a dab of their blood atop the ingredients. Dean, Sam, and Cas all slid a blade over their palm and squeezed it into the bowl, and Bobby followed that up with an incantation written on the sheet of paper. The bowl lit up in flames, before a portal started appearing beside the table it sat on.

The boys were geared up to go; bringing the Colt, demon knife, devil’s trap handcuffs and anything else they needed to kill what they would come across with them as they stepped through the portal. Immediately, they were hit with a heat they’d never felt before. Hellfire surrounded the land they stepped onto, the only source of light they were granted in such a dark place.

The portal didn’t put them directly into The Cells, but a mile or so next to it. Castiel explained the portal had probably manifested itself as close to the Cells as possible without being blocked by warding or spell work, so they couldn’t really complain. They followed a path which seemed to lead right up to the ‘building’ – if you could call it that. Its walls were flesh, its windows and doors made of barred bones. It was truly nightmare fuel.

The Cells were guarded by a handful of demons – surprisingly less than what they assumed they’d run into, although, with it being in the depths of Hell, they probably didn’t expect much company other than those they imprisoned.

Sam, Cas, and Dean fought the guards of easily, dropping bodies like it was nothing. Unfortunately, this seemed to alert the guards that were inside, too, and they had to face a few waves of oncoming attacks before they even set foot in the place.

By the time they reached the doors, there wasn’t a demon in sight.

It was eerily quiet as they stepped cautiously into the fleshy hallways. It made them feel disgusting, the way everything around them was crafted from obvious human remains and meatsuits; even the floor, which seemed to be made of dried blood. They passed various cells, the doors the only thing made of ‘real’ material; a strong metal with a small window which they peaked into to check if you were being kept in any of them.

The place was a lot larger than it appeared, the cell rooms lining the corridor that seemed to be never ending. Until, they found one at the very end which had conveniently been left open. It was an instant red flag, but they took the risk and rushed into the cell.

The sight of you broke Dean’s heart. There you were, tied down to a table on your belly; your bare back ripped to shreds by prominent lashings and bruises; your bloody, nail-less fingers digging into the leather bindings that held you down. You were barely conscious, your skin pale and cheekbones sunken when Dean approached you.

“Y/N?” he spoke quietly, his hand gently reaching over to tuck your messy hair behind your head, trying to pull you from your unconscious state. “Baby, it’s me. It’s Dean.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t even look up at him. You just stared blankly ahead of you, motionless and unresponsive. It broke Dean’s heart even more, but he didn’t give up. He started to work on loosening your bindings, relieving your skin from the tight leather straps which left indentations and bruises on your wrists and ankles.

He scooped you up and tried to get you to sit upright, but you were so weak that you could barely hold yourself up. His heart ached as he saw your pregnant belly, reminding him that his unborn child had gone through this torture just as much as you had. Although, the lack of markings on your bump was a little odd, he thought, but he didn’t want to question it. As long as you were both okay.

Dean removed his over-shirt and wrapped plaid material around you, buttoning it up so it would stay over your shoulders. It covered enough of you when he scooped you into his arms, ready to take you home.

Although, that would have been too easy.

As they turned around to exit the door, they found the doorway blocked by a hooded figure.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?”

Castiel stepped forward in a protective matter. “Magnus, let us free.”

Magnus let out a sinister laugh. “And why would I do that? You’re stealing from me!”

“She’s not yours to steal,” Dean barked defensively, holding onto you tightly as you slumped in his arms.

“Oh, how _cute_. Defending your lover,” Magnus purred mockingly, taking a step towards the boys which forced them to step backwards. “I had a lover once. She was my life; we’d been paired together for _eons_. She mothered thousands of my children, made them big and strong and allowed us to become one of the most powerful families in all of Hell. And then that whore there _killed_ her.”

Magnus pointed to you as he spat his venom, pure hatred in his eyes as he looked at you. Dean glared at him.

“How unfortunate,” Dean taunted as he placed you back down on the table, adrenaline coursing through his veins the more Magnus spoke. He reached behind him and grabbed the Colt from his back pocket, clicking the safety off. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind and moving the fuck out the way.”

He pointed the Colt towards Magnus, who simply laughed and waved his fingers to bat the weapon from Dean’s hands, smacking it against the wall with no effort at all. “I think not.”

With a swoop of his hands, he forced the boys to hit the wall a few feet from the gun, their bodies hitting the flesh with a disgusting _smack_. He walked over to you, his fingertips gently running over your hip which caused Dean’s body to burn up in rage.

“Take your filthy hands _off_ her,” Dean warned, his eyes dark with hatred.

“And what will you do if I don’t, hm? I’ve had my hands on her for months now, Dean. She’s more used to me touching her now than she is _you_.”

“I swear to God, I’m going to fucking kill you, dickwad. You’re going to regret ever messing with my family.”

Magnus and Dean went back and forth; taunting one another and spitting back threats. Sam took the opportunity to subtly edge his hand closer and closer to the Colt, which was only around two foot away from him. Magnus’ hold made it hard to move, but he pushed through the discomfort and managed to reach the bottom of the grip, using his finger to nudge it closer and closer to him before he could finally wrap his fingers around it and angle it so it was pointing to Magnus, even with his hand still being pinned to the ground.

“Hey, Magnus!” he interrupted, pressing the trigger, and causing the bullet to hit his shoulder, enough of a distraction for him to lose his hold on them. Dean sprung to his feet, pouncing on Magnus and slamming him to the ground, wasting no time in bringing his fits into the demon’s face without giving him a chance to breathe.

This gave the other boys time to get off the floor and rush to Dean’s aid; not that Dean seemed to need any help. Castiel grabbed the devil’s trap handcuffs from their bag of weapons and quickly clipped them onto Magnus’ wrists as he was held down by Dean. Finally, the eldest Winchester could get off of him, his knuckles blood and bruised but the pain they felt was somewhat satisfying.

The Winchesters and Castiel towered over Magnus as they looked at him, cuffed and bloody on the floor. Dean took the Colt from Sam and pointed it at Magnus’ head.

“Any last words, dickhead?” he asked, a satisfied smirk on his plump lips.

Magnus’ eyes narrowed at him. “Eat shit, Dean Winchester.”

Dean chuckled, a sinister undertone to his laughter. “Gladly.”

Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger and watched Magnus’ face explode in flames around the bullet hole, his head hitting the floor with a satisfying _thump_ as the life drained from his meat-suit.

They didn’t waste any time after that getting you out of that literal hellhole. Dean carried you all the way to the portal, stepping through with you and letting out a sigh of relief. After months of worrying about your, endlessly searching for your whereabouts and captor, you were finally home.

Bobby closed the portal as soon as everyone was through and rushed to your aid as Dean placed you on the couch.

“Y/N? Baby? It’s Dean. Baby, you’re home,” Dean spoke gently, his hand caressing your cheek gently. You still didn’t stir.

He looked up worriedly, more fear in his eyes than he had fighting the army of demons at the Cells. Castiel noticed this almost instantly and stepped forward. He pressed two fingers to your forehead and closed his eyes. Suddenly, his fingertips lit up and your injuries seemed to start vanishing in front of their eyes. Castiel only had so much juice to give, so he didn’t heal _all_ of your wounds, but it was enough for your eyes to slowly open once Cas took a step back.

“Dean?” you croaked, your voice weak and hoarse.

Dean’s face lit up with pure joy, his eyes filling with tears as he pulled you into his arms and hugged you tightly. You weren’t really sure what was happening, unsure of where you even were, but you wrapped your arms around Dean, too. You were still sore, like you’d been hit by a train, but in Dean’s arms you couldn’t help but feel safe. In Dean’s arms, you were home.

* * *

** READER’S POV **

Dean helped you bathe that night and really inspected your wounds. Castiel had done a hell of a job and healed up most of the injuries across your body, but there was still a remainder of lacerations on your back from the whippings. They weren’t nearly as bad as what they were and would probably heal within a few weeks of rest and pain relief, so you were definitely grateful for that.

You felt… weird, when you stepped into your bedroom again, like you hadn’t been there for years. Dean noticed the look on your face almost instantly when you stepped into the room.

“Y/N? You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, walking over to the bed, and helping Dean pull back the duvet covers. “Just… a little overwhelmed.”

Dean nodded. “I understand. C’mon, let’s get into bed. You should feel better after some rest.”

You nodded back and followed his instructions, joining him as he slipped under the duvet covers and immediately pulling you into an embrace as you pulled the blankets over your body.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, Y/N,” Dean said quietly, gently.

“I missed you too, Dean.”

You were a little numb about the whole thing. Well, a _lot_ numb, actually. You’d gone from a torture table to the comforts of your own bed within the same day, and your body was struggling to process everything. It was all just a little overwhelming, but you knew you would just have to readjust to your life here, and that would take time.

Dean’s hand slipped down to your stomach; his palm central on your baby bump. “I missed you both.”

A weak smile tugged at your lips a little. You wanted to tell Dean about Magnus’ inability to harm your baby, how there was some sort of protective shield over your bump, but you just couldn’t pull the words from your mouth. You weren’t ready to talk about what happened yet, not when you’d escaped merely hours ago. Instead, you simply closed your eyes and hoped you could get some rest so you could start fresh the next day.

In theory, it was a good plan, and you did fall asleep pretty quickly after you allowed your eyes to close, but as soon as you entered REM, you were woken up almost instantly. Your dreams were filled with flesh walls and the sounds of your skin splitting under Magnus’ belt. It was like your body refused to let you go back there, and so you spent the whole night drifting in and out of nightmares, waking up drenched in sweat and hyperventilating whenever that place entered your head again. Dean sat with you every time you sprung awake, comforting you until you calmed down enough to lay back down and try again, although you knew deep down that this wouldn’t be the only night you would be kept awake by nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reader is home! a bit fucked up, but home regardless. 
> 
> we're definitely in the home stretch of this story! i'm about to sit down and plan everything out, but i can't imagine there'll be many more chapters after this one. or maybe i'll just be evil and throw another spanner in the works 'cause i'm a sadistic bitch who likes to torture my chars. mwahah! or maybe i'll just leave that to... dare i say it... the sequel? :O maybe. we'll see. gimme lots of love via comments and i'll see what i can do ;)
> 
> lemme know that ya think, lovelies! thanks for reading! <3
> 
> my [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	15. Comfortably Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short one today! the chapters are admittedly getting shorter now that we've gotten past all the big plot twists, but hopefully the content makes up for the length c:
> 
> (also i'm kinda excited to use 'comfortably numb' as a title bc that's honestly my favourite pink floyd song and if ya haven't listened to it i would HIGHLY recommend. so sad, so beautiful. kinda like this fic lmao??)
> 
> enjoy!

** DEAN’S POV **

_A Week Later_

There was something _off_. Things just… didn’t feel right since you’d gotten back, and as much as he loved having you back in his arms, it just wasn’t the same. It was like there was a part of you that had been taken away; your feistiness, your sense of humour… he’d seen none of it since they saved you. And yeah, Dean was expecting this. He knew being held captive and tortured for months would definitely have fucked you up a bit and he was there for you whenever you needed him, but… there was just something _missing_.

He’d tested you for possession during the short interludes of sleep you managed to get, but you were clean. He even snuck Castiel into your bedroom while you slept and made sure your soul was still intact, yet it was all there, not one bit missing. Supernatural sickness, Dean could deal with. But… if it was just typical trauma… he had a history of avoiding those kinds of problems. He just couldn’t with you.

He watched you as you sat in Bobby’s living room one evening, the dim lighting illuminating the right side of your face as you sat with your feet up on the couch, flicking through your phone. You were just so… quiet. Usually, you’d be bugging Dean to watch a movie with him, or help Sam find a case or help Bobby clean up the kitchen. But you’d done none of that since you got home. You didn’t even engage in conversation unless someone started it. You just sat there, quietly scrolling through your phone or watching TV, curled up on the couch or in bed every day. It pained Dean knowing he wasn’t doing anything to help, but he wasn’t really sure _what_ to do. He hadn’t even asked what had happened when you’d been gone, not wanting to stir up any painful memories and hoping they would just go away, but he wasn’t sure if that was even the right thing to do either.

He was at a loss. You were the love of his life and all he wanted to do was help you recover from the trauma you’d experienced and make sure you and the baby were healthy by the time it was born. He just didn’t have a clue how to make that happen.

He pulled Bobby and Sam aside when he knew you were busy watching something on the TV one morning.

“Guys… I need help,” Dean started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked at them, “Y/N… she needs help. Real help. She’s been so different since she got back and I’m not really sure how I can help her get through what she must be feeling right now.”

“Dean, she’s only been back like, a week? If that. She just needs time to readjust and settle before she can start acting normal again,” Sam replied.

“Yeah, but… I’m just worried about her. She’s always been so tough before. It’s hard seeing her like this.”

“Have you even talked to her? About… what happened? How she’s feeling? You won’t know how to fix it until you know exactly what she’s dealing with.”

“All I know is that she’s having super intense nightmares whenever she sleeps. She’s probably exhausted.”

“I think you should give her some more time. You and I both know what Hell can do to someone, and she’ll come round eventually. If not, we can always look for other forms of help.”

Dean nodded in agreement, knowing his brother and uncle were right but wishing there were better ways to help you without forcing you to face your trauma again.

** READER’S POV **

You’d snuck around the corner of the room the three boys had disappeared into, knowing full well they were about to talk about the elephant in the room: you. You’d been such a liability since you got back, broken and bruised, not only physically but mentally, too. Your nightmares weren’t the only thing you were suffering with recently: you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror without seeing Magnus standing behind you, his smug grin making you feel sick to the bone, and the sounds of his belt cracking against your skin filling your ears whenever you got into that state.

You heard them talk about you like you were some delicate flower, like you were going to crack at any moment, and you _hated_ that they were right. You couldn’t bring yourself to engage in any normal conversation lately just in case the conversation was brought back round to you. You hated the pity, hated the way Dean tiptoed around you, but you also couldn’t blame them.

You were definitely fucked up from the weeks of torture. You couldn’t shower without crying in pain, anything touching your back making your whole body shaky and nauseous; your restored finger and toenails tender whenever you touched them, your body reminding you of the pain of them being pulled off. You could barely function on your own, and so you kept to yourself most of the time, scrolling mindlessly through your phone in attempts of distracting yourself from the threatening post-traumatic flashbacks in your mind.

You tried to hold back tears as you walked away from the room the boys were in when you heard their conversation finish, knowing full well they spotted you disappearing into your room when they walked out of the room, too.

Dean quickly followed you into the room to find you in a flood of tears.

He wrapped his strong arms and cradled you in them for as long as you needed, your sobs uncontrollable for at least ten minutes after the floodgates had opened. You had to admit, as much as you _hated_ crying in front of people, _especially_ hunters, you always appreciated the relief your tears gave you when you did allow yourself to do it. Not that you had much of a choice at this point.

“I’m… so sorry for being such a burden, Dean,” you muffled weakly into his chest, too ashamed to look up at him because you _knew_ those green eyes would break you.

“Don’t you dare apologise for anything, sweetheart,” Dean said, running his hands comfortingly through your hair. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I should be the one to apologise. I’ve not been helping you enough since you got back.”

You shook your head against his chest. “You’ve done more than enough to help me.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

You finally brought yourself to look up, your eyes puffy and red as they met Dean’s. “You’ve been more help than I could have asked for. You’ve been there when I’ve woke up screaming through the night, without fail. You’ve given me enough space when I need it. You’ve made sure I’m eating and drinking and bathing. You even remind me to take my pre-natals for the baby, Dean. Please don’t ever say you haven’t done enough when you’ve done more than I could have ever done on my own.”

Dean swallowed, and you could see him choking up as he looked at you, his eyes growing increasingly teary. “I don’t know what I would have done if we didn’t get you home,” he whispered, pulling your head back into his chest and resting his cheek on your head. You heard a soft cry escape his lips and you could tell he was crying, too. In this case, you were the one to just hold him, knowing you had to let him have his moment like he had done for you. You couldn’t even imagine what he had gone through trying to find you. You probably wouldn’t have been as strong if the roles were reversed.

“But you did, Dean. I’m home and I’m safe and I’m in your arms again,” you replied softly, rubbing the small of his back.

You could hear the _pain_ in his sobs as he let it out, knowing this was probably the first time he’d allowed his stress to show through emotion. As if he were letting out all the pent-up frustration, worry and anger he’d been holding in for the past few weeks. You only looked up at him again once you’d felt him wipe away his tears.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” you said softly, reaching up to gently trace the puffiness of his under eyes with a gentle thumb, “and I know as long as we’re together we’ll be just fine. I’m going through… a lot right now, but please know that as long as I have you here, I’ll be fine.”

Dean nodded and shot you a weak but loving smile. “I love you too, Y/N. We’ll get through this together.”

You gave him a small smile and leaned up to press a gentle peck to his lips.

“Oh, and Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“If I ever hear you, Bobby or Sam talking about me like that again, I’ll cut you all. I’m still the toughest bitch in this house, Hell or no Hell, and I don’t want to hear you talking about me as if I’m made of glass.”

Dean let out a small chuckle. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

You shot him another smile and pressed another soft peck to his lips. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like a nap.”

Dean nodded and kissed your forehead, allowing you to get into bed before he shut off the light and left the room.

Emotional breakdowns were exhausting. You fell asleep quickly, and for the first time in a while you made it past an hour before you woke up with nightmares. Maybe your talk with Dean had lifted a bit of weight from your shoulders and cleared your head enough to make it through a full nap, which would be amazing progress for you already. Except, that idea was crushed as soon as you nearly threw yourself out of bed when the crack of Magnus’ belt boomed through your ears like thunder. You were panting, sweat dripping down your body and your body in full-panic mode as you sat upright in bed.

As much as knowing you had everyone’s support, you knew it would take more than a ten-minute talk with Dean to make your demons go away. You had a lot to deal with, and you would deal with them, in time, but you just decided to not involve anyone else anymore. They didn’t need to feel sorry for you if you seemed normal. You would deal with your demons in silence and let everyone get on with their lives again.

So, as you calmed yourself down with some deep breaths, wiping yourself off with the towel you now permanently kept at your bedside for these moments, you forced yourself back into bed and back to sleep. It wasn’t necessarily the healthiest of ways, but you knew this would be the least disturbing way to get through things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reader ain't doing too good. she going through some shit, but honestly i don't blame her cuz she been through a lot this year... 2020 is shit for everyone apparently. 
> 
> lemme know what ya think! thanks for reading <3
> 
> my [tumblr](https://neeeeeeeeep.tumblr.com/)!


	16. Rain On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> going from one extreme to another with the titles here - from pink floyd last chapter to Gaga this one. currently obsessed with Rain On Me. don’t judge.
> 
> anyway, sorry the gap between updates has been longer than usual! hopefully you like this chapter - I’m actually super happy with how it turned out. a real turning point for reader and Dean, which lord knows they need. lemme know what you think!

** DEAN’S POV **

_Three Weeks Later_

You had seemed to perk up after your talk with Dean, he noticed. And he was glad to see your beautiful personality shining through again. He’d missed your laugh, the way your smile lit up your whole face when he cracked a joke. It was one of his most favourite things in the world, although he could still see that, despite you trying your best to hide it, you were definitely putting on a front for his sake.

He could see it in your eyes. There was still a hidden darkness behind them, that used to glisten with joy when you laughed, yet now there was nothing. Like there was something preventing you from experiencing genuine happiness.

But, he couldn’t really complain. Things were starting to get back to normal, and if you wanted to put on a mask while you healed, then he would support that decision and try and keep you smiling while you did.

The baby was doing well, too. With how far you had progressed, reaching your seventh month now, your stomach was significantly larger, dropping down a little since baby had gotten bigger (or so Dean read in one of the _many_ baby books he’d picked up since finding out you were having a baby). It was nice just spending time, often cuddling up and talking to your stomach, more often than not having some sort of rock song playing nearby so JR could learn the classics before they arrived. He wanted the kid to ‘come out singing Zeppelin’, as he repeatedly said when his Sam told him to turn it down.

It was a hot Summer’s afternoon when Dean decided to take it upon him to fix up one of the cars in Bobby’s yard. He’d seen you eyeing it the few times you’d taken a walk around the place with Dean, and he knew something like this was bound to cheer you up. What better than a sexy muscle car to make you feel better?

He’d been working on it for a couple weeks now. It wasn’t too bad – a few bumps and scrapes he could buff out easily, a few parts needed replaced to get her up and running, and definitely a new paint job to freshen her up, but nothing he couldn’t do.

He was under the car when _Layla_ by Derek & The Dominos blasted through the radio, the sweet guitar riffs causing his knee to bounce as he laid underneath the vehicle and fiddled with the underside of it. He was so focused with his handiwork and singing along to the words, that he hadn’t heard you approach the car, your words causing him to instantly jump and bump his head on the car.

“ _Ah!_ Shit, fuck… ow, ow!”

“Dean! Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean too—I just wanted to—are you okay?” he heard you say, flustered as he rolled back out of the car, rubbing the graze on his head. He looked over at you and shook his head reassuringly.

“Babe, I’m fine,” he spoke as he took a glance at his hand, fresh blood coating his fingers from the gash he’d made in his face, “I just need a towel or something and I’ll be alright.”

“Fuck me, I’m so dumb,” you worried with a pout, looking up at Dean’s head with worry. “I’ll go get you—”

“—babe, it’s okay. Here, I’ll use this. Hey, is that lemonade?” Dean spoke, trying to distract you from his injury as he grabbed a spare cloth from his workstation, pressing it to his head as he pointed at the tray you held in your hands.

You’d made it fresh, specifically requesting lemons from Sam’s shopping run (since you _definitely_ were not allowed to go grocery shopping anymore, according to Dean) and spent the morning making it, wanting to surprise Dean after he disappeared into the yard to work on the car.

“Y-yeah, lemonade. I made it myself.”

“Really? That’s awesome. You’re awesome.”

Dean grinned as he took one of the glasses and took a swig of the lemonade, enjoying the tanginess as it slid down his throat. “Damn, those are some _good_ lemons.”

You smiled weakly at him, still eyeing up the now-bloody cloth. “You sure you don’t want me to get you some ice or something for that? I feel so terrible.”

“Psh, don’t worry. I’ve had worse. Besides, if I wasn’t so distracted by the music I’da heard you comin’.”

“Well… _Layla_ is definitely worth getting distracted by.”

Dean grinned. “You like it, too?”

Your smile brightened a little as your enthusiasm shone through; Dean’s heart fluttered. “I love it. Definitely one of my favourites. And _awesome_ to drive to.”

“Agreed.”

You paused, looking into Dean’s eyes. “Y’know… I’ve always liked the name Layla.”

Dean perked a brown up, curiously. “Yeah?”

You nodded back. “Yeah. One of the few I thought would suit if I ever had kids… not that I ever thought I would.”

“And now look at you.”

Dean stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist after setting the rag down now his head stopped bleeding as much. He looked down between your torsos, enjoying the way your baby bump pressed into his belly.

“I’d want this with nobody but you, Dean,” you said quietly, pressing your forehead gently against his.

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

The instrumental part of the song played in the background as you enjoyed each other’s peace. A few splashes of raindrops hit your clothes, and instinctively you wanted to leave; not wanting to get wet. Yet, Dean had other ideas.

With a grin, he asked, “You ever danced in the rain, Y/N?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Never.”

“Well, here’s a first for us.”

As if on cue, the Heaven’s seemed to open up above you, larger raindrops splashing against your bodies and pooling on the ground. The mud became slippery quickly as the rain became heavier, yet you ignored it. You simply allowed yourself to live in the moment, enjoying the music and the company, and Dean loved watching you allow yourself to do it, too. He led you in a dance, no structure to it but simply for fun, swaying and twirling together before your bodies pressed flush against one another, clothes soaking the longer you stayed there.

Dean loved the way you laughed and smiled with him, truly letting yourself enjoy the experience, and for a moment, he could even see a flutter of light in your eyes. That light you’d been missing since you were taken captive; since you got back and the only smile you could give was a faux one with your lips. He could see the smile in your _eyes_ again, flickering as you giggled and danced with him. His heart swelled, a pool of relief filling his body as he knew you were _healing_.

He stopped dancing for a second, and before you could even question why, he pulled you in and pressed a passionate, tender kiss to your lips, holding your face in his palms and embracing you tightly.

You didn’t protest, melting into his touch and moving your lips in sync with his, heads tilting to deepen the kiss further. You couldn’t get any closer to him if you tried, yet you tried anyway, wanting to feel as much as him as you could.

He took the cue, scooping you up into his arms as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his. You were a lot heavier with the weight of the baby, but that didn’t stop him carrying you the whole way into the house, leaving muddy puddles behind him as he walked you into your room. He placed you down gently on the bedroom floor, pulling his shirt off before reaching to grab yours. There was so much tension in the air – you hadn’t been intimate like this in months, and Dean was a little nervous that he would do something to scare you, but he allowed you to take the lead from there so he couldn’t cross the line.

** READER’S POV **

Dean’s touch was so refreshing; like he wasn’t treating you like a delicate flower any longer. It was what you first bonded over, how you first became known to one another through your attraction, and it was so natural allowing him to scoop you up and take you to the bedroom. So real; the realest you’d felt since you got home.

Your body was soaking wet when he let you down from his hold in the bedroom and it gave you an excuse to strip down quicker. You peeled your shirt off from your damp skin, then your pants, Dean copying your movements as you did. Soon, you were bare naked in front of him, and you could see the adoration in his eyes as he took in your pregnant body.

You had been struggling a little with your self-esteem recently, especially now your belly had truly popped. Your stretchmarks were prominent around your bump, your body swelled in placed they usually didn’t, and your complexion had definitely taken a hit with all your hormonal changes; plus, mentally, you could barely look at yourself in the mirror without it triggering flashbacks of what Magnus had done to your body. But Dean, the way he looked at you and complimented you on a daily basis reminded you that you and your body was beautiful. You were making life and supporting it, and there was nothing ugly about that. His gaze at that moment only affirmed that.

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to press your lips against his once more. He let out a moan of appreciation as he scooped you up into his arms like before, your legs once again straddling his waist. You could feel his erection pressing against your ass cheeks as he walked over to the bed, sitting down on the bed as he kept you in his lap. The kiss didn’t disconnect even once, only deepening once he’d sat down, and your need for him became more prominent as his dick rested between your legs.

You hadn’t really had the experience of pregnant horniness yet – your first few months were spent with morning sickness and silly cravings, and then there wasn’t really much choice of anything other than pain when you were held captive. But now, you felt comfortable enough to allow your hormones to take over, your urge to have Dean returning without question, and he could probably feel it against his dick as you grinded against him.

“I want you, Dean,” you mumbled against his lips, your hips bucking against his hardened shaft, your pussy-lips parting with every thrust.

“Take me, then. I’m yours.”

With that, you let out a moan and lifted your hips up, swallowing him on the way back down in one swift motion, his cock filling your insides like a matching puzzle piece. You let out a long-winded cry of pleasure, your pregnancy hormones heightening the sensation. Dean’s growls against your hips only made matters worse, causing your hips to buck and thrust frantically, wanting to feel his length plunging inside of you, all the way to the hilt, over and over again.

It was a refreshing experience, feeling something _other_ than fear or panic or general numbness, which, over the past few weeks, you’d been fluctuating between. At that moment, you felt nothing but pure, raw pleasure and love for this man in front of you, and not once did you let his lips escape yours. No, you wanted to feel _every_ inch of him, your bodies flush against each other as you rocked your hips against his.

Sure, you weren’t as nimble as you once were with the baby bump, but you were definitely as horny as you had been when you first met, and there was nothing that could stop you fucking both you and Dean to climax. Which apparently didn’t take to long for either of you.

It was like some sort of unrealistic rom-com, your orgasms seeming to be in sync as you both cried out in ecstasy, your cunt contracting around his pulsing cock, spurting his hot load inside of you as your orgasm came in waves, your whole body trembling as you held Dean tightly.

Only when you were done, you allowed yourself to break away from the kiss, your eyes meeting his, sweat running down your forehead on top of your dampened skin from the rain. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Sorry… I got a little carried away,” you spoke shyly, worried you could have drawn it out more.

“Don’t you dare apologise. That was… wow. You’re… wow.”

The way Dean looked at you reminded you of the way he’d look at you in Vegas; like you were the best thing he’d ever seen. And it made you realise just how much you had gone through with him. You let out another laugh, slightly emotional at the thought. “You’re ‘wow’, Dean. The most perfect thing that’s ever come into my life. That, and this little one.”

You looked down as you cradled your baby bump with a smile. For the first time in a while, you felt _normal_ , like your own self. No pain in your body, only happiness, and that was all because of Dean.

“Layla,” Dean responded, and you looked back up at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“You mean, Layla.”

You grinned at the realisation. “Layla.”

Dean rested his hands on top of yours, holding both you and the baby in a gentle motion, and your heart swelled with the emotion you felt at that moment. So… so perfect.

The room fell silent for a few moments as you enjoyed the moment, but you couldn’t help but break it with, “But what if it’s a boy?”

Dean cracked a laugh. “Well… guess we’re gonna have to call it Zeppelin.”

“What? No. That’s ridiculous. Who calls their kid Zeppelin?”

“Awesome dudes, I bet.”

You chuckled at his silliness, shaking your head as you finally pulled yourself from his lap. You desperately needed a shower but didn’t want to let the moment die. “C’mon, Winchester. Let’s go get this rainwater and sweat off us.”

Dean grinned and took your hand, allowing you to lead the way to the ensuite bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo, lots happened in this one! some much-needed smut, some delicious fluff, and perhaps the name of the baby? oh, and also a little Easter egg at the end there if you caught that too ;p
> 
> If things work out this week now I have a little time off work, I should hopefully be able to finish this little story! i’m only expecting to write maybe two more chapters and it should be done - bittersweet, but exciting!
> 
> stay tuned for more! and thank you to anyone who’s stuck with this fic so far! I appreciate everyone of you <3


	17. Piece of My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello. yes, i know. i am utter, utter trash for totally disappearing - AGAIN. the world is nuts. the depression is real. i apologise. 
> 
> hopefully this chapter makes up for it! there is a little revelation of some important stuff in here, so hopefully you guys like it! <3

The next few weeks flew by. You seemed to heal more, Dean’s constant support making things easier with every new day, and for once in your life, you were actually living a ‘normal’ life. No hunting – the boys refused to go back on the road until the baby was born, and even then Dean didn’t seem keen to even return to it. Every time you brought it up, he shook his head and avoided the subject, as if he could get out of the life that easily. Every hunter knew it wasn’t that easy, but you would cross that bridge when it came to it.

You spent most of your days focusing on the new nursery. Bobby had been busy converting the downstairs bathroom into the baby’s room, just like he had planned, and finally it was at the decorating stage, which you insisted on doing yourself. You’d picked the colours – very neutral greys and pastel yellows since you didn’t know the sex of the baby yet; not that you would be fussed even if you did – and had spent the past few days planning out how you were going to paint it.

You were covered in paint, wearing a baggy pair of overalls which tightened over your protruding bump, and had music blasting through the room. You were singing away to Janis Joplin’s _Piece of My Heart_ as you applied the light grey paint to the walls with a roller, swaying your hips as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. You’d found taking on little projects here and there was very therapeutic – you’d started fixing up some of the rooms in the house, making things ‘childproof’ for when the baby was old enough to start roaming, and Bobby had even cleared some space in the living room for a play area for the little one. It really helped you work through your – quite literal – demons, and although you were still suffering from flashbacks and panic attacks nearly every day, they were definitely less intense, and you could control them a lot more.

“ _Come on, come on, come on—”_

“ _—take it! Take another little piece of my heart now, baby!”_

Your head swung round to look at Dean, who’d burst through the door and interrupted your singing with his, a grin on his lips as he danced his way over to you. You giggled as he wrapped you up in his arms, swaying his hips and continuing to sing at you. _Of course, this boy could sing, too. Was there anything he couldn’t do?_

“ _You know you got it if it makes you feel go-o-o-od!”_

You let out a snigger. “ _You_ make me feel good, Dean Winchester. You’re definitely something else.”

Dean’s grin covered his face cheek to cheek, and the way his eyes glistened as he looked down at you in his embrace made your stomach do somersaults. “I better make you feel good, otherwise I’m doing something wrong.”

You smiled and shook your head, leaning up on your tiptoes to press a peck to his lips.

“You need some help in here?” he asked, taking a look around to see what you’d been doing.

“No, I should be okay. You can always keep me company, though.”

Dean nodded and let you go, taking a seat on the floor and leaning up against one of the unpainted walls. He watched as you quickly got back to work rolling the paint onto the walls, coating the bottom half of the walls before you grabbed the ladder sitting against one of the other dry walls. You opened it up and stepped onto the first rung.

“You sure you don’t want me to take over for a bit?” Dean offered warily, obvious concern in his voice as you stepped onto the ladder.

You smiled but shook your head. “Dean, I’m fine. I’ll let you know if I need a break.”

Dean nodded, but you could tell from the look on his face he wasn’t happy with this.

“I’m not going to go high either, so you can stop worrying so much.”

You continued up the steps and stayed around halfway, not needing to go any further to reach the top of the wall. You continued with your painting as normal, humming away to the music until one of your favourites came on, _Man! I Feel Like a Woman!_ by Shania Twain. Admittedly, it wasn’t your typical type of music, and _definitely_ a guilty pleasure, but as soon as you heard that classic intro, you couldn’t really stop your hips swaying energetically with the beat.

“Shania? Really?” Dean commented teasingly. This was your soundtrack, and you did have some respectable songs on it which filled up most of the playlist, but you had to give yourself a few cheesy ones every now and then to keep it fun.

“Yes, Shania! Don’t try and tell me you don’t like this song.”

“I mean, maybe when I’ve had a few beers…”

“Pfft, lies. Nobody can resist Shania’s country pop charm.”

You saw Dean roll his eyes and chuckle. You continued to sway your hips as you painted, singing obnoxiously loud as you did just to prove a point, but this caused you to lose a bit of focus to your main task. Your roller slipped from your grasp, and as your reflexes forced you to grab for it, you threw the balance of the ladder off and caused it to tip over – with you still on it.

You let out a panicked yelp as you fell onto your side as you hit the floor, the side of your bump taking a huge blow and your hands instinctively reaching for it. Dean was at your side before you even registered his movements, thrown into panic mode as he looked over you for any clear damage.

“Y/N, are you alright? Shit, this is why I didn’t want you up there! Are you okay? How’s the baby? Are you in pain?”

You took a second to register any of the injuries you may have sustained, but weirdly enough, the only thing that hurt was your head after he hit the carpeted floors. Everything else was… fine. Even your bump seemed to be okay.

“I’m fine, Dean,” your responded, taking your time to sit up and rub your head a little.

“We should take you to the hosp—”

“—no, Dean. I’m not going back to a hospital. I’ve spent too much time in those this year.”

“Well… shit. Y/N, we need to make sure the baby’s okay.”

“Get Cas then. Doesn’t he have the juice to check that kind of thing?”

Dean paused, before he nodded and quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket, speed dialling Castiel’s number and pretty much ordering the angel to come look at you. It didn’t take long before you heard the flutter of wings behind you as Castiel appeared in the room, approaching you and Dean.

“Dean? Is everything okay? What happened?” he asked, deep timbre of his voice always having a calming affect on you. You’d only met Cas a few times since he helped save you – for an angel, he was particularly… plain. But you liked that about Cas. You always got what you saw, and any interaction you’d had with him had been pleasant.

“She fell off the ladder. Can you check the baby? I told her we should go to a hospital.”

“ _She_ is sitting right here, Dean, and _she_ has a name,” you countered, shooting him a slight glare.

“Sorry,” he replied. “Cas, please?”

Castiel nodded as he got to his knees beside you. He reached out a hand towards your baby bump, but paused before he touched you. “May I?”

You nodded and unbuttoned your overalls, rolling them down and then lifting your shirt to reveal the bump. He placed his hand gently on your belly, closing his eyes. It was a weird sensation, sending butterflies and shivers through your body as he worked his magic. It didn’t last too long, either, and he lifted his hand from your stomach after a few minutes.

“Everything seems fine. Baby is healthy with no sign of injury, and you seem to be fine, too.”

You smiled and let out a sigh of relief. “See, Dean. No hospital needed.”

“I did notice something, though. Something… odd.”

You and Dean both perked a brow up at Cas’ statement. “Say what?” Dean questioned.

“It took me a while to actually get to the baby, like there’s something shielding it. Kind-of like a forcefield around your belly, as strange as that sounds.”

You stayed quiet. Was that why your belly couldn’t be touched in Hell?

“What does that mean? Is it bad?” Dean asked as he looked at Cas.

“Well… no. The opposite, actually. There seems to be extra protection in there. I’ve never seen it before, but I have heard of it in some cases.”

“Some cases?” you chimed in.

“Yes, but… it wouldn’t make sense. It’s usually reserved for God’s elite.”

“God’s… what?”

“Specially chosen by God himself to continue on their race. They are the best of their species, designed to repopulate with their superior gene pool.”

You and Dean paused and looked at each other before you looked back at Cas.

“You’re looking at them, Cas,” Dean said, finally breaking the silence as a slight grin spread across his cheeks.

“Pardon?” questioned the angel, looking slightly confused at Dean.

“Why’d you think the Duke and Duchess of Hell wanted us infertile?”

“I suppose it would make sense. Having a Winchester breed with one of the best hunters in the country. It adds up,” Castiel responded as he nodded. You smirked at your title, _best hunter in the country_. Dean noticed your smirk and you noticed one tug at his lips too. There was definitely some pride in your prestige status.

“So, no matter what, the baby will be fine?” Dean asked curiously.

“Yes. Your baby is technically written in your prophecy, so it is protected, and should be protected after it is born, too.”

You smiled and cupped your stomach, gently rubbing your belly as you looked down at it. You hadn’t necessarily agreed to being one of ‘God’s elite’ as Cas had put it, but if it meant your baby was protected and safe then you could get on board with that.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said as he patted the angel’s shoulder.

“Anytime, Dean.”

Cas and Dean helped you up from the floor after that, and Castiel quickly healed the minor headache you’d gotten from the fall – prompted by Dean, of course.

“Is there anything else you need from me before I go?” the raven-haired angel asked, looking between you and Dean with a contented look on his face.

“Oh, actually… there is something.”

Both Castiel and Dean looked curiously at you. 

“Did you see the sex of the baby while you were in there?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Could you tell me what it is?”

“Wait, wait. I didn’t sign up for this. I thought we were letting it be a surprise?” Dean interjected before Cas could say another word, looking over at you questioningly.

“Well, that was before I knew we had an ultrasound angel on hand. I just didn’t want to go to the doctors…” you explained with a shrug.

Dean shot you a playful glare. “Well… what if I don’t wanna know?”

“Then you don’t have to know. You can leave the room, or Cas can whisper it to me.”

“But… but…”

“Dean, please. We’ve only got a month or so left before the baby is born. I’d like to be as organised as I can.”

Dean kept his narrowed gaze at you but sighed in defeat. “Alright. Lay it on us, Cas.”

“As you wish,” Cas started, a small smile on his lips. “The baby is a…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop. sorry. again, i am trash... but for the right, cliffhangery reasons, yeah?
> 
> i am HOPING to finish this within a couple chapters, if not one. i'm going to attempt some writing now, but in all honesty my muse has kinda disappeared for this fic (again, blame the mental illness. it's a shitter). i will do my best to bring a satisfying resolution to this story, and hopefully you guys will enjoy it when it happens!
> 
> thanks for reading so far if you have stuck with me throughout! i appreciate every one of you <3


	18. Two Worlds Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it, folks! the final chapter. i did it. we did it. the end. 
> 
> hopefully you guys enjoy! i feel like i’ve managed to find the ending this story deserves, and I hope you all agree! <3

You’d read countless books, watched endless YouTube videos and been told by every woman you passed in the street how difficult labour was, but nothing could prepare you for how truly _horrific_ it was.

Your waters broke in the middle of the night, and Dean, having been used to your night terrors for the past few months, sprung up when you grabbed his shoulder and woke up him. Instead of the usual of you recovering from another horrible nightmare, your problems were only just starting.

Your bag was already packed for the hospital, and you had everything you needed good to go, but you tried your best to stay at home for as long as you could — you’d rather be in pain on your own couch than in a hospital bed. But soon it got to the point where the pain was so excruciating that you had to throw in the towel and allow Dean to drive you to the maternity ward.

Honestly, you were surprised you arrived in one piece. Dean drove faster and more recklessly than you’d ever seen him, and it was fuelled by sheer _panic._ He didn’t say a word the whole drive to the hospital, but you let him be and just focused on your breathing. No, you hadn’t gone to the classes for them, but you’d watched enough videos to know the basics to stop you passing out from the pain.

Sam and Bobby helped you out of the Impala after Dean threw the car into a parking spot, before bolting into the hospital to alert the staff you were in labour. He then met you at the doors with a wheelchair, which you were thankful for by the time you’d made the walk to the main entrance – the cankles were _real._

Only Dean was allowed into the ward with you, but you saw Bobby and Sam head to the waiting room and couldn’t help but be grateful that they were willing to wait around for you even when they had the choice to go home.

Your midwife, who you met the prior month after Dean finally persuaded you to find someone you were comfortable with to deliver the baby, met you in the ward and gave you a hospital gown to change into before she did her examination. Let’s just say, when her hand disappeared inside of you to check your dilation, Dean looked like he was about to faint. It was this point that she confirmed you were around 8cm dilated and had come at the right time, and you would soon be meeting your new baby.

She wasn’t wrong. It certainly didn’t take long before you were getting the urge to push at 10cm dilated,, and this was when they decided to take you into the delivery room, Dean by your side at all times – although, now wearing a pair of pink scrubs and looking like he would pass out at any given time.

You had to admit, you were a little embarrassed at how weak you felt under all this pain. You’d only chosen to use gas and air for your pain medication, but part of you wished you’d taken something stronger – you thought, after all the pain you had gone through over the past year, that you’d be able to cope better, but there was truly no pain like childbirth. However, you were determined to make it a quick birth, using your every last ounce of energy and will to push your baby out under the instruction of your midwife. And it was all worth it when you heard it – the cries of your baby filling the room and the relief washing over you as the immense pressure inside you eased off afterwards.

You couldn’t help but burst into tears at the cries, and when the midwife announced that your baby daughter was perfectly healthy and absolutely beautiful, you couldn’t control the tears that escaped your eyes.

Finally, you were handed her after she had been cleaned up and sorted by the nurses, pressing her to your bare chest and holding her close. She was truly the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen; the thing that made you realise that everything you had gone through in your life had led up to this moment, and it was all worth it.

Dean’s face was soaked as he approached your side, leaning down to take a closer look at your daughter.

“I… I… she’s…”

“She looks just like you,” you interjected with a wide smile across your face, knowing exactly what he was trying to say.

“Wh-what? N-no, definitely like you. So beautiful. So… so tiny,” he let out a choked laugh, wiping his tears from his eyes and looking up at you. “I love you. I love her. This is the best moment of my life.”

“Me too, Dean,” your brows furrowed as you looked at him with pure adoration on your face, sniffing back your tears as you tried not to cry on the baby.

“Baby Layla…”

You let out a small, tearful laugh, “Baby Layla. Layla Winchester.”

Dean looked back up at you again. You’d never seen that look in his eyes – ever. It was _pure_ happiness. Nothing could ruin that, and you made sure to capture the moment in your memories so you would always be able to look back and remember the time the two of you, who’d gone through so much your lives, experienced untainted bliss.

* * *

You were wheeled back to a private suite once you’d been cleaned up and everything was done in the delivery room. The baby was taken from you for further examinations, cleaning and changing into one of the onesies you’d brought for her.

You were fucking _tired_. You’d never felt exhaustion like it, but you weren’t complaining about it either. Sam and Bobby came to your room once the baby had come back, and she was passed around for around half an hour before you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.

Of course, you knew any sleep you got would be short lived. You only got around an hour before the nurse woke you up for your first feed, and it was then that you noticed it was just Dean left in the room. You complied, and allowed her to help you with the baby, and to your surprise there were no issues. Layla latched on like a champ – she definitely had the appetite of her parents.

The nurse also made sure you were comfortable while you did this too – not experiencing too much pain and if you needed her to grab you anything. You politely declined, but you appreciated the help. You weren’t usually one to allow the help of strangers, but it was nice having that initial support. Besides, without it, you’d have _no_ idea what to do with this new being in your arms, and so you made a note to thank everyone who helped you before you left the hospital.

Once Lyla was done with her feeding, the nurse took her and placed her in a little cot a few feet from your bed, giving you time to cover back up and get comfortable again before she left the room.

“How you feeling?” Dean said, breaking the silence as he pulled his chair a little closer to the bed, reaching to caress your hand gently.

“Peachy,” you replied with a tired smile, lulling the side of your head on the pillow to look over at Dean.

“You look beat.”

“Honestly… all things considered, I’m good.”

“That’s good to hear. You did so good in there, baby.”

“I try.”

“And now we have that perfect little one over there to look after. I just… can’t believe any of this is happening.”

“Don’t get cold-feet on me now, Winchester. Kinda too late.”

Dean laughed and shook his head. “I would never. It’s a good feeling. Great actually. I’ve never felt as happy as I do right now.”

You smiled contently, your eyes hooded. You gave his hand a weak squeeze as you said, “I feel the same. And I have only you to thank.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Dean. You saved me. In all aspects of the word. I didn’t know life could be like this – I was going to be hunting until I died, and that was it. Without you… _barging_ your way into my life, I’d never be here.”

Dean chuckled at your emphasis. “I definitely did barge. But… there was just something about you that I couldn’t let go. Of course, now I know that it was literally written in our destinies… but, from the moment I saw you, you were all I could think of. I couldn’t help but force my way into your life.”

“And I’m glad you did.”

* * *

  
You were let out of the hospital the next day, which you were definitely glad of. As helpful as everyone had been, you still weren’t too fond of hospitals, and would be happy to not see another one for a while.

Dean’s driving was the polar opposite going home than what it was while you were in labour. He wasn’t even driving the speed limit, too scared of bumping the car too much and upsetting the baby who slept the whole way home. You would urge him to speed up – he was causing a huge traffic jam behind him, after all – but he downright refused.

But, you got home eventually, and Bobby’s house was a sight for sore eyes. The familiarity made you so comfortable and you couldn’t wait to show baby Layla her new room.

Dean headed towards your room with your bags as you headed to the nursery with the baby cradled in your arms. You slowly opened the door and flicked the light switch, the fully decorated and furnished room triggering a contented smile.

“Layla, this is your new room. I decorated it myself, y’know… with a little help from your daddy after I took that fall off the ladder, but it was definitely mainly me,” you said softly, a joking tone to your words. “This is where all your clothes will be kept, your changing table, your toy box… ooh, this is toy was specifically chosen but your Uncle Sammy.”

You pointed to the giant giraffe stuffed toy in the corner of the room by the window, which Sam got specifically so Layla could be reminded of him whenever she looked at it – lanky and stupidly tall. You couldn’t say no.

“And here’s your crib. Uncle Bobby built this for you, and when you’re a little older he’ll build you your next bed, too.”

You paused for a second to take in the room, smiling to yourself and finding your eyes tearing up a little. “You don’t know just how lucky you are.”

You were saying it to Layla, but you knew, deep down, you were talking to yourself. You were surrounded by people who loved you and deeply cared for you, enough to risk their lives for you on a daily basis and keep you safe. You’d found a family who would be there for you whenever you needed and you were so lucky to have them.

Dean found you crying when he finally caught up with you. “Hey, the bags are in our roo—hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, immediately concerned when he noticed your freshly shed tears.

You turned to look at him and simply laughed, shaking away your tears. “Nothing. Just… post-partum hormones making me all sappy. I’m just… a little overwhelmed.”

“Oh… well, that’s normal. It’s okay to be overwhelmed by motherhood and babies and—”

“—no, Dean. I’m fine with that. I just… can’t believe I’m here, safe, and comfortable, living a life doing something other than throwing myself at the supernatural and hoping to come out of it alive. I never imagined… _this.”_

Dean smiled, reaching up to wipe away your tears. “Me too. But don’t worry, it’s not going away; not me, not Layla, not Sammy or Bobby or even Cas. Not this house, not this room, not this family. You have us, and this, forever. And nothing will change that.”

You tried to hold yourself together. Damn hormones, they made you cry at _everything_ , but you were glad you were so comfortable around Dean to allow yourself to express those emotions. “I love you, Dean,” you croaked with a soft smile. “So, so much.”

“And I love you, Y/N,” he smiled back at you, before his eyes dipped to Layla, his grin spreading, “and you, my perfect little girl. Now, come here; come to daddy while mommy recovers from her hormones.”

You laughed and allowed Dean to scoop the baby from your arms into his, rocking her gently and stroking her face. She stirred and looked up at Dean, and although you knew babies weren’t supposed to smile so early, you could see a glint of smile tug at her lips as she looked up at her father. An image you would keep with you forever.

* * *

**_ONE YEAR LATER_ **

You smoothed your hands over your stomach and waist, appreciating your figure in the mirror, emphasised by the gorgeous dress hugging your figure. It had been a while since you’d been able to fit into your old clothes and actually feel comfortable, but you weren’t complaining. Your body had gone through hell during your pregnancy, and the recovery period wasn’t as smooth as the movies made it seem – you certainly didn’t bounce back in a week, and the Winchesters had definitely seen a side of you they probably didn’t want to the few times they caught you shovelling ice cream in your mouth, crying as you watched a chick flick while you lactated through your shirt. Yep. They’d definitely seen you on better days.

But tonight was your chance to feel _sexy_ again. Feel like yourself and confident in your own skin.

You were nervous as you exited the bar’s bathroom after touching up your makeup. He was late. Fifteen minutes late now, and you were growing a little antsy. You ordered yourself a whisky on the rocks as you sat down at the far side of the bar, thanking the bartender as he quickly slid your order in front of you.

You took a rather large sip of it, allowing the sharp sting at the back of your throat to distract you from your nerves. You eventually finished the whole glass and had time to order another one after that too when you finally noticed him sit down on the opposite end of the bar.

There they were, those emerald green eyes catching yours after he’d ordered himself a drink, only illuminated by the same dim light as they had been the first time you met. He wore a similar outfit, too; a tight-fitting shirt around his muscular arms rolled up around his elbows which showed his beautifully toned forearms which your eyes shamelessly admired.

You tugged at your bottom lip, taking a sip of your whisky afterwards as you kept his gaze. You watched each other, drink after drink, admiring the way he looked so _good_ with every movement he made, until finally, you made the decision to head over to him and sit on the stool next to him.

“I was wondering when you were going to say hello,” said Dean, a cocky tone to his voice which admittedly turned you on – again. “I’m impressed. Not many chicks make the first move.”

“Well, I’m not just any chick,” you replied with a smirk on your lips, impressed by how well he remembered your first meeting, even down to the same words.

“You got that right, sweetheart.”

You beckoned the bartender over and ordered a drink for the both of you. You held up your glass to him and toasted, “To women making the first move.”

“To _beautiful_ women making the first move on equally as handsome men.”

You smirked, and added, “To equally as handsome men returning the confidence in bed later on.”

“To equally as handsome men returning the confidence in the bathroom stall to beautiful, confident women right after this drink.”

Well, that was different, and definitely caught you off-guard, but you were in no position to say no. You instead downed your drink in one go, feeling the alcohol already taking its toll on you as you got from your seat.

“Better hurry with that drink then, huh?” you purred with a wink, before swivelling around and walking towards the bathrooms.

You heard the sound of a glass slamming back onto the bar after it had been downed and the frantic sound of wood scraping against the ground as Dean got from his bar stool and followed you quickly behind. You were just about to open up the door to the men’s stall when you were slammed against the wall in the corridor between bathrooms, lips frantically finding yours in a needy manner.

Your hands found their way between Dean’s hair, grasping onto him and pulling him closer, only until he broke the kiss to trail them down your neck and collarbone, eliciting a breathy moan out of your lips. Fuck, this was so hot. Something you hadn’t experienced in a while, what with a child now in the house.

Your panties were undeniably soaked, this was confirmed when you felt a hand dip between your legs and find the puddle against the lace at your core. You let out another moan as his fingers found your clit, louder than before, careless to who could hear you.

Unfortunately, someone _did_ hear you. A staff member: an older, silver haired gentleman who came out with a scowl on his face from the staff room at the end of the corridor.

“Hey! You can’t do that here. Take it somewhere else,” he growled, but his instructions were simply ignored. This seemed to piss him off even more, causing him to march up to the two of you, close enough to put his arms between you and Dean and separate you.

However, this was _all_ part of the plan, which Dean quickly acted on. He quicky broke apart from the kiss and grabbed a silver knife from his jeans and plunged it into the man’s heart, causing him to fall back in pain and cry out as he backed up into the wall.

You had to act quickly after that, hoping nobody spotted the commotion although you had planned for it to be in the most hidden part of the bar – the hallway towards the toilets, which also had a convenient back exit to it which you pulled the deceased body into once he was confirmed dead.

You and Dean carried him back to the Impala, which was parked nearby the back door and quickly shoved the body into the trunk before anyone spotted you, then allowed yourselves to breathe once it was done.

You looked at each other and both smirked at the work you had done. Even after becoming parents, you certainly hadn’t lost your game, and you found it poetic that your first case back happened to be in the bar you first met; where it all started.

With that thought, you practically lunged at Dean and allowed your lips to reconnect, passionately and needlingly, like if you didn’t kiss him now you would explode. You let out an appreciative moan against his lips, enjoying the way he held your body flush against his and made you know you were _his_.

The kiss lasted longer than it probably should have, and when you finally broke apart, swollen lips and heaving chests, you could only let out a laugh.

“Come on,” Dean said with a goofy grin as he motioned to the car, “let’s get rid of this body and get back to the kid.”

You nodded. “Can’t wait to tell her all about the werewolf we killed as her bedtime story.”

“Aw, really? I was gonna tell her that.”

The two of you laughed as you got into the car, the engine’s roar filling up the surrounding area as you pulled out of the bar’s parking lot and onto the open road. You would have never thought you’d ever have the opportunity to go home to a child; not in a million years. But not only were you going home to a daughter, you were going home to a family, and that thought alone kept you smiling the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
> 
> what do you think? i’m honestly a little sad to see this story end, but I’m glad it ended happily c:
> 
> this has been my longest story yet (over 60k words!!! holy shit) and i appreciate every bit of support it’s received over the past year or so (oof, a slow burn). your feedback has really encouraged me to finish this, and it is truly satisfying to see that little question mark be replaced by a final chapter number in the story info panel. 
> 
> so thank you sosososososo much if you’ve made it this far! much much love to you all for sticking with me this long, it means so much to me!
> 
> thanks for reading! <3
> 
> p.s. i maaaaay or may not have started writing a little reader x Dean AU last night, so you maaaay or may not see that being posted if it develops nicely. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed <3


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